Piece by Piece
by Kelp83
Summary: An exploration of the behind-the-scenes relationship of Luke and Rory and what it means to be a father.
1. 12-24-1990

A/N: Welcome! If this story has grabbed your interest, I'm so glad. It's my first foray into fanfiction writing, and I'm so excited to share it with you! A huge grateful thank you goes to junienmomo for her invaluable feedback. (You made me cry tears of happiness with that initial review!) Word of warning - chapters skip around in time for the most part, so the dates are important to make note of, although I'm sure with readers as smart as I know you are, you won't have a problem keeping up! Rory was born in 1984.

Thank you for reading. It really means the world to me.

Disclaimer: _Gilmore Girls_ isn't mine, and neither is Kelly Clarkson's "Piece by Piece" or any other work mentioned. Some lines from various episodes were quoted directly. I make no profit off this work.

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Piece by Piece

A Gilmore Girls songfic

 **December 24, 1990**

 _And all I remember is your back  
Walking towards the airport, leaving us all in your past_

The floor-to-ceiling windows in the airport terminal did nothing to brighten up the dimly lit space. Swinging her legs back and forth, Rory waited impatiently for her father to come around the corner. She didn't get to see him often, because he was a very busy man, and so having him home this Christmas would be the most special Christmas she'd ever had. "You don't think the snowstorm will keep him from coming, Mom, right?"

Lorelai smoothed her hand over Rory's head. "I hope not, sweets. I'm sure he would have called."

Rory frowned. The phone lines were down in Stars Hollow, and so it was entirely plausible that Christopher would not have been able to call from New York. She had just taken a breath to remind her mother of this fact when a large group of people came around the corner. Out of the crowd stepped Christopher, with a huge smile for both his girls. "Lorelai! Rory!"

"Dad!" Rory jumped up and ran towards him, flinging her arms around his neck. She laughed as he swung her around; she leaned back and let her long light brown hair fly behind her. After only two spins he set her down and reached for Lorelai, brushing a kiss against her cheek.

"Chris. We're glad you made it." Lorelai pulled back to draw Rory into his embrace as well.

Chris ruffled Rory's hair. "Me, too. Man, we're going to have so much fun, the three of us. Merry Christmas Eve!"

"Merry Christmas Eve!" she said back, bouncing up and down. "Dad, where are your bags? Let's go get them! Then we can go home. Mom and I always make hot chocolate and we waited to put the star on the tree so that you could be there when we turn the lights on for the first time. Come on, let's go!" Rory pulled on his hands as she searched for the sign pointing to baggage claims.

"Alright, alright, slow down, kid! I told a buddy I'd call as soon as I landed, so let me go do that first."

Rory helped her mom pick up their own waiting bags, filled with snacks, coloring pages, crayons, and a few books, packed for the bus ride to Hartford and the wait at the airport, and then followed Christopher to the phone booths down the hall.

After searching his pockets, Christopher turned to Lorelai. "Hey, you got any change? Seems I left it all on my dresser at home."

"Uh, maybe. We had some change left over after getting our bus passes… Ah, here it is!" Lorelai pulled her coin purse out of her bag and fed two quarters into the payphone.

"Thanks, Lor. This'll just take a minute."

As Christopher dialed a phone number, Rory began spinning in slow circles, watching the people around them. A couple to their left appeared to be having a heated discussion about going to the woman's parents for Christmas dinner. There was an older gentleman sitting in the waiting area with a cane and a suitcase, checking his watch and tapping his foot. Turning to the right, Rory saw a young boy her age sneaking into his mother's purse as she emphatically waved her hands to the person on the other end of the phone line. Rory watched him pull out a few pieces of hard candy and quietly sneak them into his pocket before her father's hushed conversation caught her attention.

"You're sure it's a free trip, man? Yeah, yeah, Vegas sounds great. Tomorrow? I'm supposed to… No, no, nothing important. Yeah, yeah, duty calls. Business comes first, yeah? I'll catch the first flight back. Alright, see you tomorrow." Christopher hung up the phone and turned back to Lorelai and Rory. He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. "Look, girls…"

Lorelai looked up from filing her fingernails at the hesitation in his tone. "Christopher." Rory knew that tone of her mother's voice. It usually meant she was in trouble or asking questions she shouldn't be.

"I have to fly back to New York for some business stuff. It's really important."

Rory looked to her mother and saw the beginnings of anger before Lorelai erased emotions from her face. "Give us just a minute, Rory, okay?"

"Okay, Mom. Can I go watch the planes out the window again?"

"Sure thing, sweets. We'll be right here. I'll come get you in just a minute." Lorelai gave Rory a gentle push towards the windows again. She darted off and picked a seat by the windows that allowed her to keep an eye on her parents while mostly facing the windows. Lorelai looked angry as she waved her hands, gesturing towards herself and Rory. Her dad reached for Lorelai, but she pushed his hands away. Rory pulled out a book from her bag and tried to focus on _The Little Match Girl_. She was distracted by the dark-haired boy she'd seen earlier, now sitting in one of the waiting chairs closer to the exit. His mother was now talking with a tall man in a leather jacket, her voice oddly raspy, even from this distance. It reminded her of Babette's voice. Rory watched alarmed as the man yanked the kid up and pulled him towards the door. The sandy-haired woman followed behind them still waving her arms as she talked. She wondered why the man didn't let the boy walk on his own, or why the boy didn't struggle and instead let himself be dragged along. And why did his mother not object to him being treated that way? Rory's own mother would never stand for a man dragging her around like that.

Her attention was pulled back to her own parents when she noticed her mother walking her way out of the corner of her eye. She put the book back in her bag and looked up, eager to go back to their potting shed home and have Christmas together. "Rory, sweets. I have some bad news." Lorelai knelt down next to Rory and reached for her hand.

Her heart sank in disappointment. "He's not coming home with us, is he." The six-year-old looked at her mother's face and saw all the emotions Lorelai didn't want her to see. Her brow furrowed in pain, her lips drawn tight in anger, her eyes sad as they met her daughter's. Rory gave her mom a half smile. "It'll be okay, Mom. Maybe next time."

Lorelai sighed. "You're far too perceptive for your own good, sweets. Come say bye to your dad. He has an important business meeting and he has to leave now." Rory saw through her mother's lies and heard the truth that she knew her mother sometimes confessed to Mia when she thought Rory was asleep. _Christopher has better things to do than be with his kid. His businesses fail. He's always partying. He called drunk the other night to talk to her, his six-year-old._ "Come on. I'm sure you're right and next time will work out great."

Rory let her mother draw her from her chair and over to where Chris was waiting. She held tightly to her mother's hand as Chris bent down to give her a hug. "I'm so sorry, kiddo. Next Christmas, I promise I will be here with you and your mom. Maybe you guys can come visit me for Easter or something."

"Sure, Dad. Easter or something." Experimenting with the sarcasm her mother used had the desired effect. Chris flinched a little and Lorelai grimaced, although Rory detected a smile in her mother's eyes. Rory tried to smile as Chris stood up and went to kiss Lorelai.

Her mother stiffened and pulled away. "Be safe, Chris. Let us know when you make it back to New York."

"Will do, Lor. Bye, Rory." Chris ruffled her hair one more time before walking away towards the information desk. They checked to make sure their bags were in hand before going back to the bus stop. Her mother's secret statements echoed in her head. _We_ _'re not important to him._


	2. 1-2-2012

**January 2, 2012**

 _I traveled fifteen hundred miles to see you  
Begged you to want me, but you didn't want to_

Once more in an airport terminal, Rory hoped the storm clouds outside did not in any way predict the outcome of her visit. She would have expected the weather in Miami to be sunny, but it was only a week after Christmas. Even if it didn't snow, Florida had to have some type of winter. The twenty-seven-year-old turned away from the windows and made her way to the airport bar. After ordering a gin martini, Rory settled into a booth to wait for her father and contemplated the shiny rock on her finger.

Brett had created her dream proposal. Just the two of them at midnight, the silent magic time between Christmas Eve and Christmas. It had started snowing as he led her to the middle of Stars Hollow, to the gazebo that was the center of town festivals, the place she liked to sit and read and people watch, and the stage where her mother-best-friend got married to the love of her life. He took her to that special place of memories and knelt down on one knee. He quoted Mr. Darcy and Gilbert and the passionate shepherd and finally Benedick when she started rambling a mile a minute about where they would live and what they would do and would they have pets and children and would her grandmother insist on planning the wedding. "Peace! I will stop your mouth," he said, and they both laughed so hard they forgot all about his proposal until he remembered the ring in his pocket. He slid it on her finger at her quiet yes and then kissed her as promised.

It was the perfect proposal, the perfect beginning of her life and his melding together. And now here she was in Miami, not a week later, to ask her father to walk her down the aisle. Of course, Brett and Lorelai had no idea she was here. Neither broached the subject of Christopher if they didn't have to. The last time she spoke to him was to remind him that Gigi needed him, that he was still a father to a young girl, but that Rory didn't need him complicating her life. She was grown and had life figured out. She didn't need his presence complicating her life, her emotions, or her time.

Except she thought maybe she did.

The father of the bride is supposed to walk her down the aisle. So, she mused, she must be here for tradition. Her grandmother would expect it. One of Emily's first questions upon news of the engagement was whether or not she had called Christopher. Lorelai distracted Emily with a question about the baby – her little brother. William was so tiny, only six months old, and Emily wanted so much to be involved in the raising of this baby. Rory appreciated her mother taking the heat off, but she had already thought this through. She would ask Christopher to walk her down the aisle and expect him to back out at the last minute. Lorelai once told her to keep her expectations low, but she was still learning.

"Rory! It's so good to see you!" Rory startled as Chris slid into the booth across from her. "How are you, kid?"

"Dad, hi!" Rory leaned across the table to kiss his cheek. "Not so much a kid anymore, but I'm good. How are you?"

"Your old man's doing alright. Uh, Gigi came down and stayed with me over Christmas break. She just left yesterday to go back to Paris with Sherri. I think she's really enjoying boarding school."

"Good, that's good. How's work?" Rory kept her hands clasped underneath the table as she waited out the small talk. Chris asked about her job at the paper, forgetting she was promoted to editor two years ago. He skipped his once inquisitive questions about Lorelai, asking after Emily and Richard instead.

"And how's that boyfriend of yours? Brant, was it?"

Rory spun the ring around her finger in nervousness. "Brett. And he's good. We're good. Great, even."

"Alright, kid. You suck at small talk when you're nervous. Spill it."

Hesitantly laughing, Rory brought her hands out from under the table. "Well. Brett proposed." She held her left hand up over her heart so Chris could clearly see her ring.

Chris's eyes widened. "Really. Wow. I didn't know you two were that serious."

"We have been dating for over two years." And he had met Brett only once, of course, at Emily and Richard's Christmas party a year ago.

"Yeah, yeah, I hadn't realized it had been that long. Well, congratulations, kid. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Dad. So, um. I was wondering. Well. You know it's tradition." Rory took a deep breath and looked down at her hands. "I thought maybe you could walk me down the aisle. In May."

The silence went on for longer than she thought possible, revealing her answer. Rory didn't dare look up, not wanting to see the answer on his face, too. "Don't worry about it. It's not that important. I just thought I'd ask, for tradition's sake."

"No, kid, that's not what I meant-"

"No, seriously, Dad. Forget it." Done, she was so done. What crazy impulse had led her to call him and ask to meet up? She knew his M.O.: disappointment.

Chris reached out and grabbed her hand. "Rory… I'm sorry. It's just, May is a really busy time for the company and I'm supposed to have Gigi full time over the summer and I just started seeing someone. I don't think I can be away from here. I don't want to promise you something and then back out."

"Oh, like you have the rest of my life? What a noble goal." Rory pulled her hand away and gathered her purse. Shaking her head, she met his eyes. "I can count on one hand the number of times you have been there for me, and for me only, not to get close to Mom. I came to ask you to walk me down the aisle, to play the part of father, but you don't want to. And that's fine, I don't need your excuses."

"Rory…"

"No." Rory stood up and took a few steps away from the table before turning back. "Please don't do this to Gigi. She deserves to have a father present." With that final plea, Rory turned away. She wouldn't beg if he didn't want her.


	3. 5-26-1992

**May 26, 1992**

 _But piece by piece, he collected me  
Up off the ground, where you abandoned things, yeah_

Picture books were boring.

Rory browsed through the lowest shelf in the children's section, passing over each boring picture book. She wanted a book from the top shelf, with only words, but Andrew had shooed her over here and gone to help another customer, and her mother had left her with strict instructions to stay in the bookstore while she stepped over into the post office. She was not to leave for any reason barring a fire, and even then, Lorelai warned her in her theatrical way to find Andrew immediately and not leave his side. She didn't know what they were so worried about. It was Stars Hollow, and she was seven years old. She wasn't a little girl anymore. Rory could handle the bookstore on her own.

But really, these picture books were not what she wanted. Andrew must be really busy today, because she knew he knew she hadn't read picture books in years, and yet he had still pointed her towards these shelves. _Goodnight Moon_ , _Where the Wild Things Are_ , _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ … Sure, they were in one of her boxes of books at home, but they had been living there for several years. The lack of dust might lead an uneducated observer to think these books were read often, but Rory really just hated dust on her books.

She felt strange; Rory wasn't sure she wanted to be looking at books right now anyways. The memories of yesterday's not-phone call lingered in her young mind. It certainly wasn't the first call her father had forgotten, but they were supposed to talk about plans for Father's Day this year. She wanted him to finally come visit them, to see her school and her friends and her home in the potting shed behind the inn. Her mom had warned her not to get her hopes up, but that afternoon found her waiting patiently by the phone for the better part of three hours, thinking maybe they had gotten their times mixed up. When Lorelai came home after work and the sitter left, she found Rory still waiting by the phone staring mindlessly at her spelling list of the week. Her resourceful mother had gently cajoled her into leaving the phone with the promise of ice cream and their annual end-of-the-school-year bookstore trip the next day.

Turning away from the shelf of picture books, she pushed up on her tippy toes and squinted towards the higher shelves. _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ – no, she already had that one and its sequel. _Charlotte_ _'s Web_ – again, no. That classic was also already on her list of Summertime Consolation Books. Rory edged along the shelf searching for new titles when she saw it – the complete _Chronicles of Narnia_ set, and on sale, too! She had begged Lorelai for these books over and over, and had in fact already read them all at the library. But oh, to own them – Rory could not contain her excitement at the prospect of this collection sitting on her night stand waiting to be read again and again and again. "Mom! You have to come look!" she exclaimed. Oh, but her mother was at the post office. She had said to wait right here, but surely Rory was capable of darting down the sidewalk to Lorelai's side. This find was too important to wait!

Slipping through the shelves, Rory scurried out the front door of the bookstore and froze. Left or right? Left led back to the inn, so right must be to the post office. Turning quickly, she almost thought to tell Andrew where she was going before breaking into a run again. She was looking anxiously for the post office sign, forgetting that it was right next door, when she suddenly found herself flat on her back staring at the bright sun and billowy clouds shaped like muffins.

"Ow," she heard someone say, before realizing the shaky voice was her own. How did she end up on the ground? Had she run into something? Tripped over the sidewalk? A large shape interrupted her confusion, blocking the sunlight above her.

"Hey, kid, are you alright?" the man said. Rory blinked up slowly at the stranger covered head to toe in plaid and jeans. Didn't he know it was summer? Wasn't he hot? "Hello?" Right. He was talking to her.

"I think I'm okay," she told him. The man reached out a hand to help her up and she timidly accepted it, suddenly remembering her mother's warnings of strangers and staying put and oh no, Lorelai was going to be so angry she left the bookstore! "Uh oh."

"Uh oh what? Does something hurt?" He crouched down to her eye-level and reached out a hand towards her in the way her mother did to check for injuries before hesitating, as if realizing he was a strange man and she a little girl.

"No, no, I'm good, really. It's just, Mom's gonna be mad. I wasn't supposed to leave the bookstore but I was looking for the perfect book for my Summertime Consolation Books because school is over and what am I going to read all summer and so Mom left me here to go to the post office because she finally thinks I'm a big girl and I can follow instructions but then _Narnia_ and I had to tell her and I ran and then suddenly I was here on my back and I'm going to be in so much trouble." Rory took a deep breath and looked wide-eyed at the stranger staring at her with his mouth hanging open a little. "Sorry. Mom talks too much. I'm her mini clone." Rory mused her mom might even be impressed by the number of words she squeezed into one sentence before needing air.

"Huh," he responded. She must have talked him speechless.

Suddenly realizing he might be the reason she fell, she asked, "Did I run into you?"

His crumpled brow under the worn green backwards baseball cap made him seem oddly old, and she wondered if he was this confused all of the time. "No, I just saw you fall. I think you tripped over the crack in the sidewalk here. Taylor really should get that fixed. You sure you're okay?"

Rory wasn't sure who Taylor was, but she was sure he should fix the sidewalk too, if he was in the sidewalk-fixing business. "Absolutely okay," she told the man in plaid. "Thank you very much for helping me up. I'm going to go back into the bookstore now and wait for Mom."

"Yeah, good. Make sure Andrew knows you're there. He'll watch out for you," he said, standing up. "Kids shouldn't be running around by themselves." This last part he seemed to mutter more to himself than to her as he walked away. Rory stared after him as he went, wondering about the man who wore plaid, knew the sidewalk-fixing Taylor, and picked her up from the ground.


	4. 9-5-1995

**September 5, 1995**

 _Piece by piece he filled the holes that you burned in me  
At six years old and you know, he never walks away_

"Mom, slow down!" Rory panted. "The coffee is not going to disappear if we don't get there in two seconds." She tugged on her mother's hand insistently, needing to catch her breath. The Gilmores did not exercise, and Rory did not understand how Lorelai was running down the street so quickly.

Lorelai stopped moving when she felt Rory put the brakes on. "Rory, I'm telling you, this is the best coffee I've ever had. If it's the best coffee I've ever had, it's the best coffee anyone has ever had, and what if this Duke person runs out? Then I will have no coffee because we have none at home and Sookie limited me to two cups in the morning at the inn and I will not survive today with only two cups of coffee in my system. You don't want Mommy to die, do you?" Lorelai ranted, waving her hands around as she talked and dragging Rory's joined hand along with her emphatic movements.

Rory shook her head with a small smile at her mom's antics. "I promise if this Duke is out of coffee, I will break into my book jar and find you coffee anywhere else. I'll take the bus to the next town if I have to," she told her mother. Turning to look at their surroundings, she realized they had already made it to the town square. There was the bookstore, the post office, the infamous Miss Patty's, the unicorn store with all things unicorn, the Chat Club with all things cat, the second unicorn store, the porcelain plate store with all things porcelain plate, the third unicorn store… Who actually shopped at these stores? How did they not go out of business?

Across the street was Kim's Antiques where her best friend Lane was trapped, and there was the school. School, where she finally got to rotate classes in sixth grade! Rory looked at her watch. "Mom, I have school in half an hour! I can't be late, which means I can't go get you coffee, so we have to go to Duke's so you can have coffee and I can be on time!" At the prospect of being late to school, Rory now pulled her mother along in a hurry.

They raced down the sidewalk until Lorelai tugged Rory to a stop in front of a store. A sign along the top read "William's Hardware." Hanging from the awning of the store window was a small yellow sign in the shape of a coffee cup with "Luke's" written across it. "Uh, Mom?" Rory questioned. "Are you sure his name is Duke? Are you sure it's not Luke?"

"Positive, kid. The sign means nothing. Let's go!" The doorbell jingled above them as they entered, announcing their presence. "Oh, Duke," Lorelai sang. "Coffee please!"

"Sit down and I'll get to you when I get to you," a gruff voice responded. The man belonging to the voice came out of a door and went behind the counter. Rory saw a kitchen through the door and noticed there was no one else who appeared to be working. Surely he couldn't cook and wait on tables at the same time, could he?

Lorelai's hand in Rory's back pushed her over to a table. No sooner had Rory sat down before Lorelai was following the man around the diner, coffee cup in hand. "I need coffee now please."

The man finally stopped next to their table after delivering plates of food and refilling coffee mugs. He pointed to the chair across from Rory. "Sit," he told Lorelai.

Rory watched bemused as her mother jumped around the man and quickly sat in the chair, holding the coffee cup in front of her and panting like a dog the whole time. The man just stared at her with his brow crinkled and a frown on his face. Rory took a moment to consider him: tall and broad, with a scruffy beard, wearing a plaid flannel shirt, jeans, and a backwards baseball cap. Oh! This was the man who picked her up when she fell in front of the bookstore a few years ago. She had wondered if she would see him again and if he would remember her.

The man interrupted her perusal of him, taking the coffee mug from her mother's hands and placing it on the table. As he poured coffee, he stated, "I thought you were supposed to go away."

"Well, I came back," her mother retorted, raising the filled mug in front of her in a Lion King-style pose, sound effects included. "I needed coffee, and yours is the best, Duke." Rory rolled her eyes at her mother's dramatic pose.

"It's Luke," the man responded. "And coffee will kill you."

Lorelai drained her mug and held it out for a refill. "Then why do you sell it? Doesn't that make you an accomplice to murder?" she asked. "By the way, Duke, my name is Lorelai, and this is my daughter Rory. You'll be seeing a lot more of us if you decide to continue selling coffee despite its obvious offense to your morals."

Rory smiled shyly, eyes widening in surprise when Luke said, "Yeah, I know." At their exchanged looks of confusion, he explained. "The gossip column filled me in after you whirled out of here the other day. Didn't even have a chance to ask before they were talking my ear off. Not that I was going to ask," he backtracked. Pulling out an order pad from his pocket and a pen from behind his ear, he quickly moved on. "You two want anything to eat?"

Lorelai cocked her head at him. "Gossip column? And yeah, pancakes sound good. Rory?" she asked.

"Sounds good to me," Rory told her.

Luke wrote down their order and said, "Babette, Miss Patty."

"Oh, Babette, Miss Patty, of course. Babette is our new neighbor. We just moved in – but you probably already knew that if you've talked to the gossip column."

"Yup. Rory, was it?" She nodded. "You want anything to drink?" he asked.

Well, she could hope. "Coffee, please?"

"No," Luke and Lorelai both responded.

"Coffee will kill you. Don't be like your mother," Luke said, jabbing his thumb towards the woman now shaking her head.

"Now Duke." Lorelai put her hand on his arm. "You need to prepare yourself. When Rory turns thirteen – and she's ten now, so you have plenty of time to get used to it – when she turns thirteen, she will be allowed to drink coffee. I'm sorry I have to tell you that. I know how much it hurts." Her sparkling eyes revealed her fun despite her somber face.

Rory interjected before Luke decided to not make them pancakes. She was really hungry, and he looked like he was about to explode. "Luke, I'd just like a glass of water with our pancakes. Please?" She pulled out the Rory face that Lorelai had drilled into her: big, blue eyes and the subtle beginnings of a pout.

Luke's face softened a little. "Sure, Rory. Your food will be out in a bit," he said, looking only at her.

"Her food?" Lorelai asked. "What about my food?"

Luke didn't respond, instead patting Rory on the shoulder as he walked back to the kitchen. "Duke!" Lorelai cried.

"Mom," Rory hissed. "Stop calling him Duke. He's going to kick us out if you keep irritating him."

"I'm just teasing him, kid. He knows that," Lorelai said before finishing her second cup of coffee. "Besides, he's so grumpy he probably deserves it."

"Mom, please," Rory insisted. "Stop bugging him."

Lorelai stopped waving her coffee cup in the air and looked at her daughter. "Rory, sweets," Lorelai said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," said Rory. "I just want to make sure we get our pancakes."

Lorelai stared at Rory a minute before smiling gently, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "I make no promises," she said. "It's too much fun. But I'll stop for today if you really want me to."

"Thank you. That's all I ask," Rory said, just as Luke came out of the kitchen with their pancakes.

"Two plates of pancakes and a glass of water as requested," he said, setting them down on the table. "I suppose you'd like another refill on coffee as well?"

"Yes please," said Lorelai, holding out her cup again.

Rory picked up her fork and smiled. "Thanks, Luke," she said. "These look really good."

"They smell really good, too," Lorelai chimed in. "Any special ingredients?"

"Why, you got food allergies? You should really tell people that before they bring you food." Luke crossed his arms and frowned in disapproval.

"Well, now that you mention it," Lorelai said with a smile.

"Oh geez," Luke groaned. Rory gave her mother a warning look.

"Don't fret," she responded. "I'm sure these pancakes are fine provided they don't have any explosives in them."

Luke put his hands on his hips and began tapping his foot. "Lorelai," he said sternly. "This isn't funny."

"I know it's not funny, Duke," she told him. "I just think that if we're going to be eating at your fine establishment then you should know what we will and will not eat. Anything green or vegetable-like will not be touched by us. We will not eat grapefruit, but we do enjoy apple, cherry, raisin, blueberry, strawberry, and especially boysenberry pie. Such things as liver, cow tongue, and calamari are not acceptable."

Rory giggled as Luke's jaw snapped shut when he realized Lorelai was done with her list of unacceptable foods. "This is a diner," he ranted. "Why on earth would you think I would serve liver? And seriously, your kid needs vegetables to grow. You should be making sure she eats some form of vegetable twice a day at least." He turned to Rory. "How are you so tall if she's not feeding you properly?"

Rory giggled again. "Good genes?" she guessed.

Luke shook his head in exasperation. "Enjoy your pancakes," he said. "Next time I'm putting real fruit on them." He walked away to take care of his other customers.

The girls watched him walk away, and then Rory turned to her mother. "I like him," she confided.

Lorelai looked quizzically at her daughter. "He's a tad bit grumpy," she replied.

"Do you remember when I was seven and you told me to stay in the bookstore to find my Summer Consolation Book but I left and fell outside and a man helped me up?"

"I do remember that," said Lorelei. "I was terribly displeased with you."

"I'm pretty sure the man was Luke. He's even wearing plaid flannel."

Lorelai quirked a smile. "It looks like we might have a knight in shining plaid then," she said, before glancing at her watch. "Oh no! I forgot we had a staff meeting at the Inn at eight. If I leave now I'll only be a few minutes late." She picked up her purse and pulled out her wallet. Handing Rory a twenty-dollar bill, she said, "Pay for us when you're done, sweets, and I'll see you after school." Lorelai stood up, kissed her on the cheek, and headed out the door.

"Bye, Mom," Rory called.

Luke came back a few minutes later as she was finishing off her pancakes. "Where'd your mom go?" he asked.

Rory looked up at him. "She had to go to work. She left me cash. Do I pay here or at the counter?" She looked over toward the cash register on the counter where an older gentleman in a sweater vest was impatiently waiting to pay.

"Luke," he called. "Having customers lined up will not promote your business sales. I suggest you hire some help."

"Be there in a minute, Taylor," Luke responded. He turned back to Rory. "First time's on the house. Don't worry about it."

Rory tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "Mom has already been in here."

Luke floundered at her observation before shaking his head. "She just got coffee. And it's your first time in here."

Rory smiled. "Mom would insist on paying."

"Well, it's a good thing you're not your mom then. You're not paying today," he responded.

"If you insist," Rory replied. She reached for her backpack after noting the time.

"I do insist. Come again, Rory. You're welcome any time," Luke told her.

She smiled up at him brightly. "Thanks, Luke. It was nice to see you again."

He ducked his head, chin against his chest in embarrassment. "Didn't think you remembered that."

"Mom might call you a knight in shining plaid next time she comes in here," she warned him.

"Aw, geez," he groaned again.

Another giggle and she stood up. "I have to go to school now."

Luke raised his hand up in a wave, palm facing her. "Bye, Rory." He turned to their table and began stacking plates.

"Bye, Duke," she said as she darted through the door. She glanced back at him and saw him give an amused chuckle as he worked. Yes, she decided, with a quiet smile. Rory definitely liked this man.


	5. 11-14-1996

**November 14, 1996**

 _He never asks for money, he takes care of me  
He loves me_

Rory yanked open the door to the diner and darted in. She heard the doorbell twinkle over the sound of thunder outside as she pulled off her rain coat and folded it neatly with the dry side facing out.

"Hey, Rory, doll, how's your hot mamma feeling, pet?" Babette's raspy voice lilted out of the noise of the diner as Rory walked past her table. "She still under the weather? Must be pretty low with those storms outside."

Rory stopped and smiled at Babette's logic. "Definitely under the weather. She hasn't gotten out of bed in a couple of days. Luke drove her to the doctor yesterday, said she had the flu. He was right."

"That good ole Luke, he takes care of you girls. You tell your mamma to holler across the lawn if she needs anything," Babette told her, patting her on the arm.

"I don't think she can do much hollering right now, but I'll let her know, Babette," Rory replied before continuing on to the table pushed up against the front window. She was just pulling her textbooks and homework out of her bag when Luke came up behind her.

Rory jumped when he spoke. "Hey, kiddo. Got lots of homework today?" Luke caught her book bag as it slipped from her hands. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, it's alright." Rory turned around and smiled at him. "You just startled me a little is all. And yes, I have three chapters to read, a paper to outline, and a book report to complete."

"Sounds like you'll be pretty busy for a while," he observed.

"Most definitely." Rory sat down and then quickly looked up at him. "It's alright if I sit here and work, right? Mom told me to stay here so I would eat a real dinner and not whatever leftovers are in the fridge. That's okay, right?" Rory suddenly realized she would be taking up table space for several hours, and she had heard Luke grumble often enough about customers that would come in and sit with a cup of coffee for hours… usually referring to her mother and Kirk.

"Yes, of course," Luke interjected into her worried thoughts. "You can stay as long as you want. How's your mom feeling today?"

Rory smiled in relief. "I think she's doing better. She didn't have a fever when I woke her up to take her medicine this morning."

Luke shook his head at her. "How often do you play mom, Rory?"

"Well, you know Mom. So quite a bit," Rory teased.

Luke smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You let me know when you want something to eat, okay?"

"Yes, sir," she answered and then turned to her mountain of homework, pausing only to smile at Luke when he set a soda in front of her.

Rory got lost in the world of Dickens, finishing her book report with ease but getting distracted re-reading the story. She didn't look up until a plate of chili cheese fries slid in front of her. "Eat," Luke told her. She murmured a thank you before turning back to _Great Expectations_. It was darker outside when she closed her last textbook. Luke appeared almost immediately, despite the full tables around them. "Done with your homework?" he asked.

"For today," Rory replied. "Tonight I'm going to read _The Bell Jar_ with Mom. Tuesdays are our reading nights. Which usually means I read to her, especially since she's sick."

"Aren't you a little young for that book? Didn't Sylvia Plath kill herself?" Luke furrowed his brow in concern at her reading choices.

Rory tilted her head. "Luke, how old do you think I am?"

"Uh… you're twelve, yeah?"

"Correct. And I've read many books about mental illnesses, with Mom's permission. I promise I am not scarred for life," Rory assured him.

Luke sighed and uncrossed his arms. "Alright. You need a ride home?"

"No, that's okay. It quit raining outside, so I'll be fine." Rory began gathering her books into her backpack.

"Don't leave yet. I've got soup for you and your mom. You want anything else?" He pulled out his order pad, waiting expectantly.

Rory considered the ten dollars in her pocket and shook her head. They would be fine with soup. Luke frowned, but put his order pad away. "It'll be right out." He disappeared back into the kitchen.

Rory made a list of the homework she had left for this week while she waited. Luke reappeared shortly with a large to-go bag. He stumbled over his words. "I, uh, had some extra fries and salad and such, which, you probably won't eat the salad between the two of you but at least it's there, which makes me feel better, and there's a couple donuts that nobody ate from last night and I forgot to throw them out. Oh, and I accidentally put too much sugar in this pie and figured if anyone could handle extra sugar, it'd be the two of you. Plus, there's the soup I promised earlier." He set the bag down on the table in front of her and rocked back on his heels.

Rory blushed, realizing all of the "extra's" Luke threw in were free of charge. She pulled the ten out of her pocket. "Mom insists," she told him, prepared to leave it on the counter if he refused. It was hard enough for Lorelai to let him drive her to the doctor.

Luke took the ten from her and asked again if she needed a ride home. "I'm good, I promise. Thank you, Luke," she told him.

"No problem, Rory. Call and let me know you made it home, okay?" Luke put his hand on her shoulder and then turned back to his diner. Rory headed home, grateful Luke took care of them even when Lorelai pretended he didn't.


	6. 3-15-1998

**March 15, 1998**

 _Piece by piece, he restored my faith  
That a man can be kind and a father could stay _

"Mom! I'm home!" Rory called as she pushed their front door open. The Crap Shack was in fine form today; it looked like Luke had repaired the porch railing, fixed the squeaky board in the front step, and changed the light above the door, which had been out for a few months.

"In the living room, favored loin fruit!" Lorelai called back. She looked up from the piles of laundry on the floor as Rory came in. "How's Lane?"

"Feeling stifled," Rory responded, plopping down on the couch. "Mrs. Kim is driving them to Hartford and back every day this week for an area-wide Seventh-Day Adventist conference. It starts at eight in the morning and ends at eight at night, and of course the food is terrible, and they have to fast while they're at home, so we might need to sneak a few snacks over there after Mrs. Kim goes to bed. Plus, she still has to complete her book report, which, by the way, I completed last night, so don't worry, but I might have to help her out because Mrs. Kim will expect her to work on it during the drives to Hartford and back, but you know Lane gets car sick."

Lorelai interrupted when Rory paused to breathe. "And since she's been with Mrs. Kim all day, she talked the whole time you were with her, and that's why you just fit two hundred words into one minute?"

Rory smiled sheepishly and slumped further into the couch. "Sometimes I think she talks faster than you do after you've had fifteen cups of coffee."

"Impossible," Lorelai replied. "No one tops the Queen of Words. And I, of course, am the Queen of Words, because I rule over all of the words and sentences and paragraphs and I know all the words because my pretty princess daughter is smart and tells Queen Mommy all of the big words she learns at her fancy school and in her fancy books. Hey, want to help me fold your laundry?"

Rory dropped down off the couch to sit next to her mother. She began folding socks, which were her mother's least favorite item of clothing to fold. "I see Luke has been busy today." Rory could hear a hammer pounding away somewhere in the house and assumed he was still hard at work.

"Yes, he has. The back door locks again, and my window shuts all the way, and the oven doesn't steam anymore, so we can go back to warming our socks."

"Yay, socks! Hey, are these yours or mine?" Rory held up a pair of bright pink socks with purple sparkly toes. "And what excuse did he give for fixing things up this time?"

"Uh, mine. No, yours. No, mine. They were for the fairy princess Halloween costume two years ago and I couldn't bring myself to part with them. And he apparently had some new tools he just had to try out and he didn't have anything that he needed to do anywhere else, but I'm telling you Bert has no new companions, so he's a liar. Liar, liar, pants on fire."

Rory tossed them into her mother's basket. "A very sweet liar. Did you wear them recently?"

"No…" Lorelai dragged her word out and suddenly became very interested in the Billy Joel t-shirt she was folding.

"Mom. What did you do with these socks?" Rory took the t-shirt from her mom's hands and planted it over the next one Lorelai reached for. "Tell me," she said.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "It's no big deal. I was just really bored when you were gone earlier and I might've considered bothering Luke with a sock puppet show and it was about a princess that meets a frog and he trades favors for kisses which is now totally wrong and why did they ever write that in a children's story? So basically I was going to reenact the princess and the frog story and I had to have a fairy princess and I thought the fairy princess socks would be perfect," she mumbled.

"So you had to wash them because….?" Rory questioned.

Lorelai perked up. "No reason. Hey, kid, did I mention Luke was in your room right now? Building you another bookshelf?"

Rory gasped, forgetting all about Lorelai's impromptu puppet show. "Mom, I've been home fifteen minutes and you're just now telling me this?" She jumped up, leaving her mother amidst the unfolded valley of laundry, and practically ran into her room. She froze in the doorway and observed Luke somehow managing to hold the shelves up onto the wall and hammer nails into the boards at the same time, all while balancing on the step-ladder he left over here. "Need some help?" she asked.

Luke jerked his head up and bumped it on the shelf he was holding. "Ouch, damn." He turned around and immediately turned red. "Oh, Rory, sorry. Ignore that."

Giggling, Rory took a few steps closer. "I didn't mean to startle you. Is your head okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," Luke responded. "You want to hold this board up or nail these in?"

Rory gave Luke the mom look that Lorelai claimed she learned from Emily. "You want me to use a hammer?"

Luke smiled and shook his head. "Thought I'd offer you the chance, at least. Here, hold this just so." He let her step up the ladder and then placed her hands on the boards and made sure she was sturdy before he pulled the hammer from his tool belt and climbed up the other side of the ladder. Sticking a few nails in his mouth, he asked, "'Ow's Lae?"

"She's good," Rory said as Luke nailed the shelf to the wall. "I'll spare you the details, but she's under lock and key this week again. Mrs. Kim is crazy."

"Mrs. Kim is a good mother and you two know it." Luke defended, looking at her sternly before pulling her down the ladder and away from the wall. He moved her back to the doorway so she could see the bookshelf that ran across the top of the wall all the way around the room and kept his hands on her shoulders while standing behind her. "How's it look?"

Rory leaned back against him and smiled. "Looks good."

Lorelai poked her head in the door and stepped around them. "Ooh, pretty shelves! You know she'll have these filled before the end of today, right?"

Luke laughed. "I wouldn't expect any less."

Rory stepped away from Luke and flounced on her back on the top of her bed. "I love books."

This time they both laughed. "We know," Lorelai said. "You, my dear, are the Queen of Books, which means I am the Dowager Queen Mother and Luke is our jester and handyman and whatever other role we need him to fill. There's no King because we're feminists. Solidarity sister!"

Rory and Luke looked at her, waiting expectantly for her ramble to come to an end. "Mom? What is it with you and royalty today?" Rory asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lorelai responded. "On a completely unrelated note, our movie night theme is Disney princesses, only including the ones that make terrible decisions. Now, I'm gonna take this laundry upstairs. Don't annoy Luke for too much longer. I'm sure he has to return to the diner so we can go eat at some point." Rory watched Lorelai lean into Luke as she passed him and smiled. Luke was a good friend to her mom, despite all of the teasing, flirting, and bantering. She wondered briefly if this is what it would be like to have two parents. A man ( _Luke_ , her subconscious prompts) fixing things around the house, cooking dinner, steadily supporting them. Mom doing laundry and random projects, singing as she goes, bringing in the sunlight. Little touches, moments like this where she knows she's loved unconditionally by not just one parent, but two, two parents who stay. The moment passes as the lyrics of "There She Goes" fade away, following her mother's footsteps upstairs.

Luke began gathering his tools. "So, Rory, what have you been reading lately?"

" _The Canterbury_ Tales," she was quick to respond. Going into a lengthy explanation of the plot, she stopped midsentence when she realized Luke had finished packing up and was waiting for her to finish. "Sorry. I didn't mean to ramble. I don't want to be annoying."

Luke shook his head as he opened and closed her window, checking the lock and squeak level. "You never annoy me, Rory. You're not a jam-hands kid. Your mom, on the other hand… Let me know when you finish that book. I want to hear how it ends." He picked up Bert and walked towards the door.

"Thank you, Luke," she called after him. Luke lifted his hand in his characteristic wave before leaving, knowing her thanks was for more than the bookshelf. Rory flopped back onto her bed and began contemplating how to re-organize her books to include the new shelves.


	7. 5-10-2003

This scene is also my entry for the Enscotched 2016 Ficathon. I've already had some really positive feedback from y'all and it makes my heart so happy that others are enjoying this!

* * *

 **May 10, 2003**

 _And all of your words fall flat  
I made something of myself and now you want to come back_

Paris was insane. Rory managed to get up the three stairs of the Crap Shack's porch, but she wasn't sure how to open the door with all of the books and binders in her arms. This much research for one article should have indicated it was important, but no, Paris just wanted her to be thorough. Paris wanted their last edition of _The Franklin_ to be reminiscent of their first. Rory was tasked with writing another article on the pavement of the parking lot, even though it was three years ago, and Paris didn't care if the article was completely sarcastic; she just wanted it to be better than the first one. And as much as Rory had developed as a writer over the last three years, she wasn't convinced an article on concrete and cars could improve much.

Rory carefully unloaded her burden onto the porch swing before digging in her backpack for her keys. Chances were her mother had left it unlocked, but Rory liked to pretend they cared about safety. Plus, if Luke turned out to be right, and there were robbers watching the house waiting to find out if it was locked or unlocked, she definitely wanted to give them the appearance of a locked house. Rory jiggled the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

She had just slid her pile of schoolwork onto her bed when the phone rang. Rory pulled on a pair of jeans before shimmying out of her skirt and quickly shed her top while waiting to screen the phone call. Hearing her father's voice, she grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it over her head before reaching for the phone in the hallway. "Hey, Dad, what's up?"

"Ror! Hey kiddo. How's it going?" Rory noted the odd pauses and slight slur and realized Chris might be intoxicated at some level.

"It's going fine, Dad. Did you need something or did you just call to talk?" Rory briefly considered calling him out on calling her while drunk, but instead decided to hear him out.

"I have some bad news, kid." She heard crying in the background and some muffled curses over the line before Chris spoke again. "Sorry, Ror', Gigi won't stop crying."

Oh, geez. If Chris was drunk and watching her little sister at the same time… Rory would be the first to say she had no interest in children, but even she knew alcohol and three-month-old babies were not a good combination. She briefly debated running over and asking Babette to call Lorelai when she heard Sherri in the background. "Christopher, I don't know why I have to ask you every single damn time I come in the door to please hang up your coat instead of dropping it in the floor." Her nasally voice continued to complain as she walked away from Chris until Rory no longer heard her. She did, however, hear Gigi stop crying, so that was good.

"Rory. You still there? Rory. I called you for a reason," Chris stumbled. "You – you is – you're gradiating. Graduaton. Graduating."

"Yes, in two weeks," Rory responded, already dreading what Chris would say next. She remembered when she was younger, in elementary school, when she would look forward to his phone calls. She hadn't yet learned to associate them with disappointment. Rory knew growing up her mom had kept up the pretense of Christopher's little involvement as a good thing – every phone call was praised, every letdown smoothed away. Somehow her mother never actually took the blame for Christopher's absence, even though Rory saw now how easy it would have been to do so. There was always some reason or excuse that Rory tried not to look too hard at. Gradually, though, Lorelai had stopped sugarcoating. She comforted when Rory needed comforting and she still praised Christopher when he tried, but she didn't expect Rory to see the world through rose-colored glasses anymore.

"M'sorry, kid. I'm not gon' be there." His words confirmed her suspicion. Christopher was bailing on her, again. Did he even have a good reason this time? "So prou' of 'ou, Ror'."

His words fell flat. And oh, how she hated that shortening of her name. Rory swallowed her anger and took a deep breath. "It's fine, Dad. Don't worry about it." Do. Do worry about it, she thought. Consider your daughter, your first child, the little girl who wanted you there all the time.

"Such a good kid, Ror'. I miss you. And your mom… so beautiful." She didn't think he was talking about her any more than she thought he was sober. That confirmed it, then. He might have been with Sherri, but he still wanted Lorelai. He still used her to get to Lorelai.

"Give Gigi a kiss for me, Dad." When you're no longer drunk, please. "Tell Sherri hi. Call me if you change your mind." Rory hung up before he could respond, the last sliver of hope disappearing as she heard him murmur Lorelai in the second before the phone clicked off. She sank to the couch and curled around a pillow. Would he ever want her, for her and only her? Rory tried not to feel ungrateful; Lorelai was amazing, and both Luke and Richard loved her the way a father should, but still she wanted Christopher's attention. If he couldn't even bother to see her graduate from Chilton, the biggest accomplishment of her life so far, could she ever expect him to care? He sent her mother a basket full of graduation gifts. Rory had received a gift card in the mail with Chris' name in Sherri's handwriting. She felt a flare of envy of her mother. What did she have to do to make him want her?


	8. 3-2-2001

**March 2, 2001**

 _But your love, it isn't free, it has to be earned  
Back then I didn't have anything you needed so I was worthless_

Her eyes blinked open in the soft sunlight filtering into her room. Rory yawned and stretched her arms over her head before sitting up. If she didn't know what her hair looked like right now and ignored the fact that her bed was a twin with a ten-year-old quilt on it, she might have considered that wake-up worthy of a princess. Instead, she pulled herself out of bed, pulled her fuzzy blue robe on over her tank top, and stopped in front of the mirror to assess the damage of falling asleep without changing into pajamas, washing her face, or brushing her hair.

Last night she met her other grandparents. Not Richard and Emily, but Christopher's parents. Straub and Francine. Even their names sounded stuck-up and rude. Rory had fallen asleep thinking about what her mother said, how their anger and pride kept them from realizing how much they wanted to know her. She knew Lorelai was just trying to make her feel better, but at sixteen-years-old she could tell when she was wanted and when she wasn't. And, retrospectively, it didn't really matter that those two people didn't want her, because there were so many that did. A whole town full, in fact, plus her grandparents whom she was just getting to know. Her grandfather stood up for her and her mother; that was the first time she had heard them on the same side, rather than criticizing Lorelai. And Emily – well, Emily was uncharacteristically kind, even in her particularly harsh brand of honesty.

Those warm and fuzzy family moments (as Lorelai had called them) with Mr. and Mrs. Hayden had left her aching in the middle as she lay on her bed last night. It had been a while since she had considered how her existence had affected her mother and father. Rory stared in the mirror at the features that marked her as theirs. Her bright blue eyes belonged to her mother, and her shy smile too, although her mother's own smile was rarely shy. Her straight, light brown hair definitely came from Christopher. Her rigidity and discipline in school sometimes seemed to have skipped a generation, although she knew her mother to be a hard worker. Her indecisiveness likely came from her father, although she worked hard to cover it up with the same ambition her mother had. All of her to-do, goal, and pro-con lists made that much easier.

Christopher had dropped out of life, it seemed. She knew he wasn't around much, and she knew it was probably because he hadn't grown up yet, but she tried not to let it bother her. After all, she had everything she needed in Lorelai, and the sturdiness Lorelai lacked was found in this town, in Luke, in her grandparents. Lorelai had given up everything for Rory. Now she knew that Lorelai didn't want the life of the elder Gilmore's, but her mother's life could have been so much easier. Lorelai was her age, she realized, when she had Rory, and she was just a kid. She had no doubt her mother had always been childish, but she had also been forced to grow up too fast. Lorelai had lowered herself far below her class and worked her way up in order to provide for Rory, to give Rory the home Lorelai wished she would have had growing up, to give Rory the best childhood she could hope for.

Rory was startled out of her reveries by the sound of the front door closing. She heard Lorelai come into the kitchen as Chris asked where she had been. Rory tuned out their conversation as she changed into clean clothes and brushed her hair. As she sat down on her bed to tie her shoes, she heard Lorelai's voice raise in volume and pitch. "Charlie Manson is freaked out by you right now!"

"Come on, we're already a family." Christopher sounded confident in his response, but Rory wasn't sure if he knew what a family was, to use it in that context. Lorelai seemed to agree.

"Who? Who is a family?"

"Us!" he cried. "You, me and Rory!"

Rory heard her mother turn and slam the coffee pot into place. "You don't even know what a family is."

"It's people living together." Was he serious? College roommates lived together but that hardly qualified as family. Rory wondered if she should be hearing this. She pulled _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ off of her bookshelf and flipped it open to a random page. Putting religious analogies aside, the story was simple and beloved. The words were loud enough to distract her until her mother's voice rang out again. "And I don't want to talk about this anymore!" Lorelai yelled.

"Look, I'm the immature one, I'm the irresponsible one. I'm the one who was willing to get married when you got pregnant!"

Lorelai repeated the mantra Rory had heard her recite to Emily for years. "We were too young, we wouldn't have made it, you know that."

"Well we're not too young now," Chris responded.

Rory could almost envision her mother's hectic movements as she mumbled about needing coffee, attempting to meet that need without throwing anything at Chris.

"What about last night?" he asked. "What did our having sex mean to you?" Oh, gross, Rory thought. She so did not want to have that confirmed, even though Lorelai's vague comment on schmutsing gave her a pretty good idea of what they did, if not where.

Lorelai sighed. "It meant that Jose Cuervo still has amazing magical powers." It was official. Rory was never drinking alcohol.

"You're funny," Chris said. There was a pause in their conversation and Rory considered opening her door. She wasn't sure if she wanted to spy on them or interrupt their conversation.

"We can't get married, Christopher," she heard Lorelai tell him softly. "We don't know each other as adults."

"So let's get married and get to know each other as adults." Rory frowned, hearing the confidence in his voice. Chris sounded so sure that he could convince Lorelai to give them a try, to take him seriously, to let him stay there with them. Would he stay there with them? He certainly couldn't sleep on the couch; Lorelai might claim it was the comfiest couch in the world, but it was no peach to sleep on. Lumpy potatoes, they called it. If he wasn't sleeping on the couch, that would mean he would be sleeping in Lorelai's bed, and that would make this very real, much too soon.

Rory wasn't sure if they could handle Chris being there all the time. It was fun having him here to visit, and she would certainly like for him to stay longer than two days, but all of the time? They had a routine, a method, a life already planned and mapped and worked out. Rory would have to re-write so many of her lists to include a present father as opposed to an absent one. He couldn't even buy her a book. The townspeople treated him like a circus animal. And Luke – he had disappeared as soon as she and Christopher had come into the diner. She wondered what Lorelai had told Luke about Chris. She doubted Lorelai did any sugarcoating with Luke like she used to with Rory. Luke probably knew about every time Chris had stood them up, except for maybe the times before they knew the grumpy diner owner. It was more frequent then, too, Chris not being there when he said he would be, or not calling when he said he would.

The few times Rory remembered Chris actually showing up was when her grandparents were involved. Chris would spend a few minutes playing with her perfect hair and praising her perfect dress and telling her he wanted to hear all about school the next time he called, and then he would spend the rest of the evening either by Lorelai's side or chit-chatting with her grandparents' rich friends. Mostly clinging to Lorelai's side, trying to impress her and make her laugh. At some point Rory started wondering if Christopher even wanted the family package, or if he was just interested in getting back with her mom.

Rory raised her head from her pillow when she heard Chris tell Lorelai she was his soulmate. "Rory might be my only child," he added. Was he implying that Lorelai should marry him only because Rory was his kid? Was he really using her that way?

"That's not true. If Tony Randall can crank one out in his seventies, you have decades left to spawn," Lorelai retorted.

"No. I don't know how much I miss Rory until I see her like this. It's… it's easier staying away." Rory felt tears prick her eyes. What kind of messed up logic was that? 'I miss my kid more after I've spent time with her, and it hurts to miss her, so I just won't spend time with her'?

"No. Don't stay away," Lorelai pleaded. "Don't. Rory needs her dad." Rory thought back to her earlier musings. She had Lorelai, and this town, and Luke, and her grandparents. She almost disagreed with her mother.

"Or her pal, right?" Chris asked.

"I think she'd take a combo," Lorelai told him. Rory, so in tune with her mother, realized Lorelai was once again putting aside her own hurt to keep the door open for Christopher in their lives, in Rory's life. And, really, regardless of how much it hurt, she did need her dad. She just wished he needed her.


	9. 12-8-2000

**December 8, 2000**

 _But piece by piece, he collected me  
Up off the ground, where you abandoned things, yeah_

Rory had never been in a hospital, not since she was born. She had the chicken pox once, and they took her to the separate doctors' office building, but she had no other childhood illnesses. When Lorelai had broken her leg during her only misguided attempt at yoga, Mia had been the one to take her to the hospital, and they left Rory with Sookie. They had never been close to anyone with health problems. Her first foray into the hospital was now, with her grandfather looking pale and weak, and Lorelai and Emily trying to be strong for her and for Richard. She didn't mean to overhear her grandparents' conversation, but it broke her heart to hear Emily demanding to go first. She left after that to go find her mother.

They had no luck with coffee, but Lorelai did tell her Dean came by. She was so embarrassed; all they did was fall asleep, but who knows what Emily thought. And Rory was embarrassed for Lorelai, too; it would have been one thing for Lorelai to have woken up on her own and not been able to find Rory, but to have her critical and over-bearing mother there must have hurt. Feeling grateful they worked things out, she hugged her mom as they walked down the hallway, back to where Luke and Emily were waiting.

Emily dragged her off to "wash her face", but Rory wasn't sure what Emily's motivations were. It would be uncharacteristic of her to purposely leave Luke and Lorelai alone, because Rory knew what her grandma thought of the man in their lives. But, she mused, her grandma could very well not be thinking quite right, and just wanted her granddaughter's presence as she faced the unknown. Either way, Rory was glad when they ran into Emily and Richard's doctor. Joshua was the bearer of good news, and Rory nearly cried in relief when Joshua confirmed Richard was going to be fine. She squeezed her grandpa's hand before slipping out of the room to follow her mother, leaving them to talk in medical terms.

She found Luke and her mother standing close, both smiling, and Lorelai finally had a cup of coffee in hand. Lorelai reached out to put her arm around her daughter. "He's gonna be fine," Rory told her mom.

"Yeah, yeah," Lorelai responded, smoothing her hand over Rory's hair and pulling her in for a hug. "I think it was those financial papers that really did the trick."

Luke chuckled at their synchronized giggles.

"So, um, Luke's gonna take you home, okay? I'm gonna hang out here for a while," Lorelai told her, pulling back from the hug a bit to see Rory's face more clearly.

"I'll stay, too," she quickly replied. If her mom was here, she should stay as well.

"No, go, call Dean. Talk mushy to each other and then spend an hour arguing over who's going to hang up first," Lorelai teased.

Rory blushed. "You are gross." Luke didn't need to near any of that.

Lorelai smiled and tucked Rory's hair behind her ear, her hand lingering on Rory's cheek. "I'll call you later, sweets."

It seemed like she was going home with Luke, and really, the hospital atmosphere was starting to exhaust her. "Okay, well, tell him goodbye for me. And tell Grandpa I'll come back tomorrow," she asked.

"Okay, I will. Bye." Lorelai kissed her forehead and then turned towards Richard's room.

"Bye." Rory stared at her mother's retreating form before she felt Luke's hand on her elbow.

He leaned in towards her. "Okay, walk fast and look straight ahead," he told her. She creased her eyebrows in confusion but did as he said.

They made it out to the parking lot rather quickly, Rory having to lengthen her stride and quicken her pace in order to keep up with Luke, especially with his hand gently placed in the middle of her back. She randomly wondered if Luke was a good dance partner, with the way he guided her around corners and cars with only the pressure of his hand on her back. They came to a halt at his old green pick-up, as solid and reliable as its owner was. Luke opened the door for her and offered her a hand up. She was certainly tall enough to easily climb up on her own, but Rory accepted his help anyways, as she always did. Lorelai always said letting Luke take care of them was as much for him as it was for them.

The drive home was mostly silent. Rory broke the stillness with a question. "Why did the hospital make you so uncomfortable?" She was tired enough that she didn't think to ask if she could ask a question first. It caught Luke off guard.

She glanced over at him when he didn't answer immediately. Luke opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, before taking a deep breath and sighing. "I didn't mean to make you more uncomfortable. You don't have to answer," she told him.

Luke glanced over at her. "No, it's okay," he answered gruffly. He was quiet again for a few minutes, so she assumed the question was too invasive regardless of what he'd said and let the silence and the movements of the truck lull her eyes closed. They snapped open when he spoke. "I spent a lot of time in the hospital with both my parents."

Rory's heart lurched. "I'm sorry, Luke. I didn't think-"

"It's okay, Rory." He stopped her from apologizing again with a firm, gentle touch to her knee. "I don't mind telling you."

She was quiet for a moment, embarrassed that she hadn't put two and two together. She knew from Babette and Miss Patty that Luke's parents had died when he was young, both from cancer, and that he had to grow up fast. Rory wondered if he had anyone to talk to, any place to go when he was feeling sad. She couldn't imagine spending more than a few hours in the hospital, much less days or weeks. "How old were you?" she asked before she could stop herself.

The silence reigned again, and Rory decided that if Luke didn't want to answer her questions, he would tell her. She let him think or gather himself or whatever he needed, without pressing for an answer. "I was nine when my mom died, twenty-three with my dad."

Rory looked over at him, trying to imagine a nine-year-old Luke losing his mother. "What were they like?" What was he like, before he lost his parents, before he lost the people who created him?

Luke's response was quicker this time. "My dad worked hard, up until he couldn't hide the pain anymore, couldn't stand up and walk around… It was hard, watching him at the end like that, knowing how strong he used to be."

Rory nodded in sympathy. "I never expected to see Grandpa look so weak."

"Yeah, that's right," Luke responded. "Your grandfather is a very strong man. I hope he knows how to accept help. I don't think Emily takes no for an answer."

A giggle escaped before Rory could stop it. "No, not really. What about your mom?" she wondered.

Luke sighed again, glancing over at her to find her watching him with her head tilted. He chuckled. "You look just like your mom when you do that."

She smiled. "Why thank you."

He shook his head and continued. "I don't remember my mom as well, since I was so young. I cooked with her a lot. Her best friend Maisy would come over and they would talk and talk while they baked cookies or brownies or pies. Mostly pies. My mom's boysenberry pie was the best, better than mine. Your mom would probably fall over if she could taste my mom's boysenberry pie."

The thought of a child-Luke baking with his mom made Rory smile again. "Mom does love your boysenberry pie," she said.

Luke continued as if she hadn't commented. "My dad hated sweets, but he would eat whatever Mom put in front of him. He loved her, so much. Would have done anything to keep her happy. And he did, right until the very end. I was too young to remember most of the good times with her, but I was old enough to remember the end. She was-" He broke off talking and Rory sat up in her seat, concerned. Luke ran his hand over his face and shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road the whole time. "Sorry," he finally said. "I don't talk about this."

Rory scooted over in her seat a little and rested her head against his shoulder. She felt six-years-old again, giving and seeking comfort with her close presence. "Don't be sorry," she said softly.

She felt Luke stiffen when she leaned against him, but he slowly relaxed. They drove in silence until they pulled into her driveway. "Thank you for bringing me home," she told him, her words sounding loud after so much silence. She scooted back across her seat and climbed out of the truck.

Luke came around the front as she did. "I think I'll wait here until your mom gets home, if you're okay with that. Maybe look around and see what needs to be done."

Rory smiled at his thinly veiled excuse to ensure her safety. She was sixteen, but she suspected Luke still saw a ten-year-old waif when he looked at her. "That's fine. I think I'm gonna head to bed. It's been a long day," she said as she gave Luke the pretense of unlocking the front door.

"Yeah, and, you know," Luke stumbled, pressing his hand into her upper arm, "you can call Dean, or whoever, if you want. I won't listen to your calls or anything. So, yeah. You do what you gotta do." He had suddenly become their awkward Luke again, faltering when it came to a boy in her life. Rory smiled at him and took pity on his anxiety.

"Thanks, Luke, but I really am tired. Dean can wait." The relief on his face was visible as his shoulders slumped, losing tension. Rory turned towards her bedroom and began to walk away.

"Hey," Luke said. "You need anything to eat?"

Rory's stomach suddenly voiced its opinion with a loud grumble. She grinned in embarrassment. "I guess so," she responded. "We were in the middle of dinner when we had to take Grandpa to the hospital. Now that I think about it, I didn't really eat much of anything."

"I don't suppose you girls have anything edible here?" he asked, turning towards the door with his keys in hand.

She mentally itemized the food they had available in the fridge and pantry and realized he was right. "Nope. We need to go grocery shopping."

Luke nodded in reply. "I'll be back in a bit. Lock the door behind me."

"Yes, sir." Rory did as he instructed and then went to get ready for bed. She figured Luke had seen her in pajamas hundreds of times, and she could always throw a robe on. She was tired of wearing this dress, though. It felt wrong, as if it had bits and pieces of the hospital still clinging to it. Rory doubted she'd ever wear it again.

After leaving a voicemail for Dean letting him know everything was alright, she curled up on her bed to read. Picking up the book she'd left on her nightstand, her eyes caught on the picture of her and Christopher from Christmas two years ago. The last few years he had come to the elder Gilmore's Christmas dinner before going to visit his own parents, and she realized this year he hadn't been present. Rory hadn't even given him any thought in the last few days, instead consumed with her disagreement with her mother and the mess she'd made out of things with Dean. She wondered how different the evening would have been if Chris had been there, if she would have left the hospital with him instead of Luke. Her mind left her wanderings as she turned her attention to the book in her hands, finding it a better companion than herself at the moment. She was six poems into Emily Dickenson when she heard Luke come back in, which confirmed her suspicion he had a spare key or he knew to look in the turtle. Either way, she heard him set stuff down on the table and start moving around the kitchen. Rory finished reading the sixth poem and then carefully placed a string inside to mark her spot. She set the book aside and walked out of her room.

Sitting at the table, Rory watched Luke move around their kitchen comfortably, knowing exactly where everything was. She was struck by how odd it was that Luke fit in so well here. Lorelai's dates, or at least the ones who she let pick her up here, never seemed to fit into their home. Luke had repaired so much of it free of charge that he could probably demand ownership and Lorelai might concede.

"Eat up," Luke told her, sliding three bowls in front of her containing mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and chicken noodle soup.

"Sick food?" she asked, picking up her plastic spork and digging in.

"Comfort food," he responded. "What happened to all of your real utensils?" Luke pulled out a chair and sat across from her with a bowl of soup in front of him, studying the spork intensely. Rory giggled at the bewildered look on his face.

"Well, you see, we decided to learn how to play spoons. The card game," she explained.

"Yes, I know how to play spoons," Luke said.

"Well we got bored with the game, with just the two of us. So we decided to play more than one person to make it more interesting, but it got rather difficult because we kept adding on more people. So all of our forks and spoons and such are in the living room under the couch. I had to hide them so Mom would stop throwing them. She wasn't very good." Rory beamed when she got another laugh out of Luke. Usually Lorelai was the funny one. It was nice to tell the stories for once.

Luke shook his head at their antics before eating in silence for a while. Rory liked the way they could go from talking to not talking, and it wasn't awkward at all. They knew how to let each other be, and she enjoyed that. "When do you think Mom will be home?" she finally asked as she finished up the last bit of soup.

"She didn't say," Luke responded. "One of us can call her if you like." He began cleaning up around the kitchen.

"No, that's okay. I just wasn't sure if I should wait up for her or not." Rory followed Luke into the living room, where he got down on his knees and started pulling silverware out from underneath the couch. "Oh, you don't have to do that, Luke. I can take care of that." She quickly went to help him.

"It's alright, Rory. I don't mind." They stood up with handfuls of utensils and looked at each other, suddenly laughing at how absurd it was that all of the silverware was underneath the couch instead of in a drawer in the kitchen. Luke took Rory's silverware from her hands and went to the kitchen. She curled up on the couch with a pillow between her chest and knees to rest her head on, wrapping her arms around her legs.

Luke came back in and sat next to her. "How are you doing?"

"Hmm?" she questioned, looking at the pictures on the mantel that had caught her attention. "I'm okay."

"With everything that's happened tonight," he explained, nudging her side a little.

"Oh." She looked over at him. "I guess I'm alright."

"Good." Luke toed off his boots before propping his feet up on the coffee table and leaning back on the couch, his hands behind his head.

Rory let the ticking of the clock be the only break in the silence for a while before leaning back on the couch next to him. "I was really scared," she whispered. "I just started getting to know him. He took me golfing at the club, and it was fun, we had fun, and he likes reading as much as I do, and I just-" She broke off, unable to voice her thoughts any further.

Luke lifted his head to look at her. "You told me."

She nodded, choking on the tears she didn't want, the tears that weren't necessary, because her grandfather was okay, he was going to be okay, and Lorelai and Emily were okay again, and she herself was at home and safe and comfortable with yet another person who loved her.

For the second time that night, Luke held his arm open to a Gilmore girl. Rory curled into his side, pressing her face to the pillow she was still clutching. Her shaky breaths eventually evened out, and Rory drifted off to sleep knowing absolute security.


	10. 9-23-2005

**September 23, 2005**

 _Piece by piece he filled the holes that you burned in me  
At six years old and you know, he never walks away _

The wooden board was rough under her fingers where they rubbed absentmindedly, in time with her legs swinging over the edge of the old bridge. Rory stared across the lake at the street lights twinkling through the trees, disappearing and reappearing with the light movement of the wind. In the time she had been sitting there, the temperature had dropped enough that she yearned for a jacket. How long had she been there, staring off in the distance, pleading with her anxious thoughts to settle?

Rory had left the Fort Drum event in a daze. She'd waited for every crew member to leave, staying until the very last second of clean-up after the extravagant DAR event. She never thought she would be overseeing an event of the Daughters of the American Revolution organization that her grandmother was so fond of, so involved in, and yet here she was, in a 1940s service costume, complete with big curly hair. The hat had come off as soon as she got in her car.

How she ended up in Stars Hollow, Rory wasn't sure. There was no decision made, no thought of returning here. All she knew was that she had gotten in her car and driven until she stopped, and then her feet carried her here, where her brain instructed her to sit down and breathe. The tightness in her chest hadn't let up, despite her valiant efforts at calm breathing. Breathe in, swing left leg out, drag fingers down wood, then breathe out, swing right leg out, drag fingers up wood, and repeat. Over and over she had breathed, and swung, and felt the uneven lines of this aged board.

She really didn't know what time it was. She had left the DAR event sometime after midnight, and it was a half hour drive from Hartford to home – no, Hartford was home now, and that thought interrupted her careful breathing pattern. Rory fought for control and lost it, doubling over as the tight pain in her chest increased and her heart raced. She recognized the symptoms for what they were – a panic attack, like she had been having sporadically every day for the last two weeks.

They only struck when she was alone. Rory thought that might be what scared her the most; the anxiety creeped in while she was alone, with no one there to talk her down, help calm her breathing, or hold her. Oh, how she wished someone could hold her right now. Her phone, where was her phone – in the car. Rory had left her phone in her car, and Lorelai likely wouldn't answer anyways, given the results of their conversation last week at the baptism of Sookie's kids. And now that she thought about it, Rory wasn't sure where she'd parked her car. Around the town square somewhere? The side street not too far from the bridge? Heaven forbid she had parked it at home – Lorelai's house, not home, she told herself, but correcting her thoughts only increased the overwhelming feeling of no control.

Rory nearly screamed when she felt a hand press into her shoulder. "Rory?" Luke crouched down next to her, moving quickly, his voice now closer to her ear. "Rory, are you okay? Answer me. I need to know you're okay."

She gasped at the worry in his voice, feeling air rush into her lungs. "Okay," she managed, lifting up enough to reach for his hand where it pushed against the ground next to her, holding up part of his weight. Luke shifted to kneel beside her, letting her grasp his hand tightly. Rory focused on the tactile feeling beneath her fingers of Luke's hand in hers. Rough around the callouses, soft in between his fingers, strength lingering under the surface, gentleness in his grip around her own small hand. Unfamiliar, but so comforting, so like… home. Luke wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, cradling her head to his chest, tucking it underneath his chin.

Rory didn't notice she was shaking until the movement stopped. She tried to pull away, but Luke was unrelenting and solid; his hand held her head to him tightly. Relaxing into his chest, she once again focused on her breathing pattern. Breathe in, squeeze his hand, breathe out, release the tension. Luke didn't speak until her breath had evened out.

"Panic attack?" he asked.

She took a quick breath in, faltering in her pattern, surprised. "Yes," she whispered. "How did you know?"

Luke shook his head against the top of hers. "Lorelai," he said, with no further explanation. Her mom was having panic attacks? Surely this wasn't some weird freaky Friday incident, where their bodies were in sync. Once she left home for college, they gradually stopped feeling each other's physical pangs, the distance lessening their bond. That train of thought was quickly stopped, though, as Rory felt her heartrate quicken again.

"Breathe," she said, concentrating on the feel of Luke's flannel against her cheek, unaware she spoke aloud until Luke pulled away to look at her.

"This isn't the first one?" he asked, not quite letting go of her.

Rory focused on a point across the lake again rather than face this man who had now seen her at her weakest. Sure, he had seen some pretty low points before: petty fighting with Lorelai, acting out over bad grades and boys, being angry with him for the disastrous double date that ended with a failed game of Bop-It. And of course he knew about the yacht incident, her big fight with Lorelai, sleeping with married Dean… all very low points in her life. Now he had seen her weakened to the point of a panic attack, unable to move or escape her anxious thoughts. "No," she finally bit out when he asked again.

"Have you talked to anyone about this, Rory?"

She rolled her eyes and pulled away. "I'm a big girl, Luke. I don't need to talk to anyone about it, especially now, especially you."

He winced as if she had slapped him, and she felt the pain in her chest tighten again. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes. Luke had done nothing but love her, and here she was lashing out at him again. "I'm sorry," she breathed out, barely audible. The apology was a blow to the righteous pride she had been building up ever since Mitchum had told her she didn't have it. Seeing him tonight had solidified the truth that she wasn't good enough to make it in the world of journalism, but she was determined to hold her head up high anyways, just like Emily did.

Luke put his arm back around her, pulling her close as a dry sob wracked her body. She wondered how much she really wanted to be like Emily. Rory was so angry at everyone, all the time, and she didn't even know why. "I'm sorry," she repeated, a little louder, throwing a wrecking ball into the wall of pride. "I need you," she breathed. "I always need you."

The man who was always there when she needed him brought his other hand up and cradled her head, shushing her, telling her it was okay, everything was going to be okay. In a moment of clarity, she felt like giggling at the absurdity of the hushing noises Luke was making. Instead Rory let him lull her into a feeling of peace.

When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. "I'm here if you ever want to talk," he told her. "You know where to find me. If you can't come here, I'll come to where you are."

Tears again threatened to spill from behind her eyes as she squeezed them shut. Could she talk to him? Would he go home and tell Lorelai everything? Could she risk that her mother would know her broken like this? "I think I messed everything up," she confessed.

Luke again shook his head against hers. "You didn't. And if you did, we can fix it."

Continuing to trace her hand against the board, Rory's fingers lingered on the open knotholes. So many holes, she thought, all over her life and her heart. "I don't know how to fix the holes," she whispered.

It suddenly occurred to Rory to wonder what Luke was doing out here. "Why are you here?" she asked. "What time is it?" She pulled away to look at her watch. "Luke, it's after two in the morning!"

He chuckled. "I know what time it is. I was doing some night fishing, and I was headed home when I saw you." Rory then noticed the tackle box and fishing pole lying behind them.

She nodded her head in response and found herself leaning back against his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin again. Luke let her stay there, drawing on his strength until she could talk. "I don't know what to do."

"I'm not gonna tell you what to do, Rory. You have to figure that out," he told her.

"I've never had to figure it out before. Everyone else has always done it for me. I knew I was going to an Ivy League school from the time I could understand my mother's words. It was always her dream for me. I'm not saying I didn't want it, but there were never any other options, despite all of the times she told me I could be a circus clown if I wanted to. By the time I was old enough to think for myself about what the rest of my life should look like, it was already expected of me." Once she started talking, she couldn't seem to stop. "I've tried not thinking about anything now, beyond planning parties for the DAR and spending time with Logan, but even then I'm constantly reminded of the terrible choices I've made in the last few months. Years, even. I'm a terrible person. I don't know why you're here. I'm not worth the trouble."

Luke cut her off with a rant of his own, hugging her tightly against him. "You are worth more than anything, Rory. You are loved so deeply by your mom, your grandparents, this town, me. We love you, and we are here for you, and you are worth everything to us. Whatever you decide you want to do with your life, we support you one hundred percent, no questions asked. Rory, you know that. You know that's the truth. What happened?"

His words prompted more tears, but she still fought against them. "I'm not. I'm not worth it. Everyone knows it. Emily is only happy when I do what she wants. I had to cut back on my class load and take less than Grandpa did. I'm a disappointment to them, just like Mom was. And Mom doesn't want my new phone number; she's not even speaking to me. And Sookie – how can I be a godparent to an infant if I can't even take care of myself? Dad has never been here, ever. Logan can't understand, his dad told me-" She broke off, letting the tears come. She was worthless, didn't he know that? Why did she have to tell him? Couldn't he see how broken she was? Rory wrapped her arms around her stomach in protection, doubling over again as she cried.

"Mitchum is an ass," he said, not letting go of her at all. "Mitchum is an ass and anyone else who has ever read anything you have written knows how good you are. You are good enough, Rory. But it's not your writing that makes you enough. We love you. You listen to me. You are loved." Luke's voice shook with the effort of getting his point across without crying himself.

The dam had broken. All of Rory's hurts and fears and anxieties came flooding in, sending her spiraling into another panic attack. Even when her body stopped producing tears, she still heaved with sobs, unable to get enough air to slow down. Questions and accusations flew through her mind, confronting her weakness. Was Mitchum right? Did she not have it? She enjoyed the DAR so much. Could she really amount to anything if she enjoyed a socialite life like that? Why did Emily have to control everything? Did Lorelai not want her anymore? She didn't want her phone number, that was for sure. They hadn't told her when they got engaged, not until she came to see Luke. Would she get to be part of the wedding plans, or of the wedding itself? What did he think of her now? Would he abandon her like Christopher had? And Logan, would he leave like Jess and Dean, once he realized she didn't belong anywhere, and that he couldn't be enough for her? Even playing the part of socialite, she didn't see how his parents could ever accept her. How could they want her? How could anyone want her? She was so broken, so screwed up… She had pushed everyone away, and no one had stayed.

Luke's murmuring crashed through her haze of brokenness like the sunlight trying to break through storm clouds. "I'm here," he kept repeating. "I'm here, Rory, you're not alone. I love you. I'm here." It was as if he heard every damaged thought and every scattered dream, and Rory realized she had said some or all of her fears out loud when Luke told her they weren't getting married without her, that Lorelai loved her more than life itself, that they would never leave her. Rory let him rock her into safety as she once more came down from the heights of a panic attack.

She knew, even as he held her, this feeling of security would not last through the night. Eventually she would pull away, and he would let her go, and they would go back to their separate lives where he was by Lorelai's side and she was on her own. But for now Rory let Luke hold her as she sought to memorize every nuance of complete safety.


	11. 3-18-2001

**March 18, 2001**

 _He never asks for money, he takes care of me  
He loves me_

Another Monday at Chilton meant another long night of homework for Rory Gilmore; the Monday after spring break was no different. She lugged her backpack full of books and notes through the front door and into her room, dropping it at the foot of her bed, as she did every day after school without fail. She got a glass of water from the kitchen and checked the answering machine for messages while she flipped through the mail. Rory liked her routines, just like she liked her lists, and that was next in her sequence. She left the important mail next to the phone so Lorelai would see it, placed the junk mail on the coffee table for them to mock later, and then sat down at her desk to make a list of everything she had to do that evening.

Memorize one Shakespeare sonnet for English, finish reading _Medea_ for Greek and Latin studies, take notes on the last chapter of _Anna Karenina_ for History. Shakespeare would take the least amount of time, she decided, and went to her bookshelf to locate the book of sonnets. She'd taken two steps to the middle of her room when she froze.

Something was off. Rory knew her books well, and something was off. She looked by sections – there was nothing wrong in her personal fiction section, or personal non-fiction. School-related fiction was also fine. Her eyes ran over her school-related non-fiction section, mentally cataloguing her books by name, author, color, and size. Oh, there it was! Rory approached the two large, offending books and pulled one out, nearly dropping it as she read the title. _The Compact Oxford English Dictionary, A-O_. This was the book she had asked for when her dad was visiting and his credit card was declined.

Rory wondered how it had gotten on her shelf. If Christopher suddenly had a few hundred dollars to spend, and he, by some chance, remembered this was what she wanted and also remembered their address, then it would have come in a box. That meant one of the Lorelai's – her or her mother – would have received said box, opened it, and told the other about it. Rory knew she didn't open a box with this five-ton volume, which meant her mother must have, but Lorelai hadn't said anything and it was unlike her to keep something like this a secret. Even if Lorelai had kept it secret and snuck the book in here, Rory reasoned Christopher would have left a note, something to indicate he was the one who got it for her.

Searching the pages of both books for a clue, some sort of note or extra paper, she flipped through the books rapidly. Sitting down on her bed in frustration, she combed over them again. Coming up fruitless, Rory set the books gently down next to her and then flopped back on her bed, putting on a mental detective hat.

Everyone knew Lorelai couldn't keep secrets, which meant that Lorelai had no idea these books were here, in her room, on her shelf. Well, on her bed now, but they would definitely go back on the shelf, in a place of prominence. The fact that they were in her system in the exact place she would have chosen shows that whoever placed them here knew her system, or at least knew her well enough and was smart enough to figure it out. Rory supposed her grandfather would have been able to figure that out, and they could certainly afford it, but she didn't think he would drive all the way out here and sneak into the house without anyone in town noticing and reporting back to them. No, she thought, Richard would have presented them himself as a gift at a Friday night dinner, rather than surprising her with it. Rory also wasn't certain how Richard would have known about her desire for the set. Lorelai wouldn't have told him, and she doubted Chris had been in contact with her grandfather, much less mentioned to him that he had failed to buy his daughter this one particular book she wanted.

Rory reviewed what she knew so far. Whoever placed these books on her shelf had money to buy them, had access into her house that didn't raise suspicion, knew her system, and knew she had asked for this dictionary in particular. Stumped, Rory considered asking Lorelai what she thought when they met for dinner at Luke's tonight. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to set aside the puzzle so she could focus on homework.

With half the sonnet memorized, she remembered the conversation out of nowhere. It was the Thursday before spring break, because Thursday was the only night Lorelai consistently worked late, and that Friday they didn't have dinner with Richard and Emily because Richard was out of town and Emily, for once in her life, had come down with a virus. Rory had spent her evening in the diner working on the paper due the next day, and had been pondering the effects of free speech on religious freedom when Luke sat down across from her, refilling her coffee. "How's the paper coming?" he asked.

"Really well," she answered. "Tell me – do you think Muslims should have the right to distribute anti-Jew propaganda?"

Luke scoffed. "Ask me something I know the answer to."

Rory smiled and turned back to her paper. She frowned when she realized Luke was still lingering a few minutes later. "Did you need something?"

He shook his head before opening his mouth and promptly closing it again. "So I heard your dad was in town last week," he finally stated.

Her brow furrowed as she contemplated how uncomfortable he was. "Yeah. I'm… glad he came," she told him, trying to ease whatever distress he was feeling.

"You've seemed kinda bummed lately," he observed.

Luke could be perceptive when he wanted to be, it seemed. "It's… Christopher." She looked down, strangely embarrassed that her disappointment was so audible.

"Rory." He briefly covered her hand with his.

"No, Luke, it's okay. I just thought things would be different this time," she told him. She sat up with a little hope. "He's never come here before, you know."

Luke's eyes widened. "No, I didn't know. Did you give him a tour?"

"Yeah, it was fun! Mostly. He met Dean." Inwardly, she cringed. Did she have to be the girl that always brought up her boyfriend?

"Right, the boyfriend. You brought him by the softball game, I remember now," Luke commented, looking anywhere but at her.

She found something less uncomfortable to tell him. "We went to the bookstore."

Luke nodded, relieved. "Show him all your favorite books?"

"Like there's the time in the world for that," she retorted. He smiled back knowingly. Rory debated whether or not to continue, to potentially make the ease between them awkward again. "He offered to buy one," she confided.

Luke's response was expected. "Yeah, what'd you get?"

"His card was rejected," she said in a rush.

"Huh," came his guttural reaction, as if he wasn't sure what to say to her father's failed attempts to buy her love.

"It's no big deal. I'm glad he came." Rory didn't want Luke to think she was ungrateful for Christopher's presence, especially since he'd never come here before.

"Yeah, of course," he said. "He still here?" As if he wouldn't know; they frequented his diner every day. If Christopher was still with them, surely they would have brought him here.

Rory shook her head no. "He left Sunday. After proposing to Mom again." She wasn't sure why she added that; Lorelai would likely be mortified if anyone, especially Luke, knew that Christopher had come waltzing in like he had, trying to sweep her off her feet.

Luke was quiet for a minute. "She say yes?" he finally asked.

Rory jerked her head up to look at him. "Of course not," she said. "It's stupid. I'm not five. I don't need my parents to be married. Besides, Mom needs someone stable." She pretended not to notice the way Luke's shoulders slumped forward, losing tension.

"Didn't think Lorelai needed anyone," he remarked, his tone less strained than before.

"She is Superwoman," Rory said, trying to lighten the subject a little.

"That she is," Luke responded, then got up and walked over to the counter. He came back a few minutes later and slid a piece of apple pie in front of her.

"Oh, Luke, I don't need pie." She mentally counted the change in her pocket. Luke interrupted her worry.

"You're a Gilmore. You always need pie." He crossed his arms and stood there for a minute as she attempted to find a reason to protest. "On the house, Rory. Indulge me."

Rory was startled out of her memory when she heard the front door open. She blinked her eyes open and sat up slowly, unsure if she should mention the books to Lorelai.

Her mother started talking as soon as she shut the door, already in story-telling mode. "Rory! Sweet loin fruit, you will not believe what happened today. Michel finally had a coronary, I'm sure of it." Lorelai stopped in the doorway of Rory's room and caught Rory staring at her bookshelf again, determining whether she would put the books back where she found them or pick a different place. "What's wrong?" Lorelai questioned. "Lose a book?"

"No." She hesitated, but they didn't keep secrets. "I found one I didn't know I had."

"Oh, which one?" Lorelai came and sat next to her as Rory lifted the dictionary into her lap, leaving the second sitting next to her. "You keep a very strict inventory."

"This one," Rory said, fingering the spine of the book where pretty silver letters were printed into the black binding.

Lorelai took a sharp breath in. "Rory. Where did that come from? Did Christopher send it?"

Rory could hear the panic in her mother's voice, and suddenly realized the burden it would place on her mother and Luke's friendship if Lorelai were aware of the suspected giver of the expensive, unrequested gift. "I don't think so. Maybe I have a guardian angel."

Lorelai looked hard at Rory, and Rory tried to convey her thoughts through her eyes. Don't ask me, Mom, you don't want to know. It's better if this stays secret. It's more Bond that way. Lorelai finally gave in, looking back down at the book. "Hmm. Maybe, sweets." She wrapped her arm around her daughter and hugged her. "Maybe you do."


	12. 5-26-2012

**May 26, 2012**

 _Piece by piece, he restored my faith  
That a man can be kind and a father could stay _

All of the white was dazzling. The tablecloths were white, the tent curtains were white, the dinnerware was white, her dress was white… everything was white. The line of well-wishers was never-ending, and Lorelai came over to cut them off so that Rory and Brett could go sneak a few bites of their as-of-yet untouched plates. Brett's arm around her and the faint buzz of alcohol combined to leave her feeling a little light-headed.

Today she woke up as Lorelai Leigh Gilmore, and now she was Lorelai Leigh Gilmore-Tyler. It was a weird thought, that she would go to sleep a different person than she was when she got out of bed this morning. The '-Tyler' didn't sound like much, but it meant change. She would wake up and fall asleep next to Brett for the rest of her life. They had committed, until death do us part, to love, honor, and encourage one another, to be there in sickness and in health, and to always be ready to laugh together.

The tweak in their traditional vows revealed the true character of their relationship. Rory didn't think she had laughed with anyone else as much as she laughed with Brett, including her mother. Anyone who knew the Gilmore's knew they laughed together, and to find a man that laughed with her, and her mother, meant more to Rory than anything else Brett had done for her.

Brett drew her out of her mental land of sappiness and back to their real world, which was still just as sappy. "I love you," he whispered, leaning down behind her. "Also, Emily looks like a swan with its chest puffed out and a glower on its face. I can't decide if she's proud or angry."

Rory grinned up at him. "Probably a little bit of both. You're practically perfect, but you are stealing away her beloved granddaughter for an entire month."

"What can I say?" he responded. "You deserve a month off of work, and I think traveling Europe together is the best idea I've ever had, besides proposing to this off-center angel of perfection."

Blushing, Rory swatted at his arm. "I'm not off-center, and it is quite possibly the second best idea you've ever had. I've seen Europe with Mom and Grandma, but never with a man." She leaned in close to him again. "You'll be my first," she whispered conspiratorially, fluttering her eyes for extra effect.

Brett threw his head back and laughed, drawing amused stares from the wedding guests milling around them. Rory couldn't help but giggle with him; his laugh was contagious. She sobered when he leaned back in, trailing his hand up and down her thigh. "Don't tease, Rory," her groom said into her ear. "I don't think this party can end soon enough."

She was saved from having to think of a coherent response to his desire by Kirk unexpectedly appearing right behind them. "The dancing shall begin soon," he announced in a stiff, formal voice.

"Thank you, Kirk," Rory answered, all traces of desire disappearing at Kirk's interruption. "I suppose we're ready when you are."

Brett stood up and offered his hand. "May I have this dance?"

With one more longing glance at her food, Rory accepted his hand. "You may."

"I'm impressed, Gilmore," he told her, as he led her to the dance floor. "You let me pull you away from your food."

Rolling her eyes, she slipped her arm around his shoulder, hearing Kirk announce their first dance as husband and wife. "You've come before food for longer than you know, my gentleman friend." Rory remembered the first time she had told Lorelai about Brett, whom she'd met at a coffee shop in New York and gone on two dates with. They weren't two minutes into the conversation before Lorelai asked if Brett was someone special to her. Rory looked at her quizzically, then realizing what her mother was after. Adopting the best southern drawl she could manage, Rory had said, "Why, yes, mother, Brett is my gentleman friend." The title had stuck, and Rory was impressed when Brett understood the reference with no prompting when her mother first called him her gentleman friend.

Brett kissed her forehead, pulling her close as the dance began. Hep Alien began the first strains of "My Funny Valentine", the first song they had ever danced to. Frank Sinatra was a challenge, but Rory thought they adapted well. Brett led Rory through a few turns of the dance steps Emily had insisted they learn before drawing her close and swaying side to side, taking small steps around the dance floor. Rory let the music and the feeling of Brett surround her, simply existing in the moment of pure contentment. She was vaguely aware of other couples around them joining the dance.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" Brett interrupted her haze of white, staring down at her with unmistakable adoration.

Rory blushed, as she seemed to be doing frequently today. "You did. Several times."

"Well, I shall tell you again. I thought I was going to fall over when you and Richard first came around the corner and then began walking down the aisle. You're breath-taking." He leaned down to kiss her, and she let herself get wrapped up in the feel of his lips on hers and his arms around her.

Kirk's voice spoke into the microphone again, once more diffusing the budding desire to escape from the reception. "Next, ladies and gentlemen, is the traditional father-daughter dance."

Rory lifted her head from Brett's shoulder, anxiously searching through the people around them. She let out the breath she didn't know she was holding when her mother and Luke walked up.

Luke removed his arm from around Lorelai's waist and held his hand out to Rory. "May I steal her for a moment?" he asked Brett.

"If you must," Brett responded with a smile, letting go of his bride.

The woman in question took Luke's hand with a warm smile as Brett offered his arm to Lorelai and walked with her off the dance floor. Luke easily led Rory in a gentle waltz to "Child of Mine", and she recalled the first time her mother had gushed about his ability to sweep her off her feet. Rory wondered why she'd ever doubted they would be perfect together. "Did you know," she asked, "that I once told Mom she couldn't date you?"

Luke raised his eyebrows in surprise. "No, I didn't. When was that?"

"When I first started Chilton," her perfect memory recalled. "She asked what I thought of you, and when I realized what she was getting at, I freaked out."

"What did you tell her?" he asked curiously.

"You were Luke," she said, shaking her head ruefully. "I told her you'd date, you'd break up, and we'd never eat at the diner again. We would have starved."

He chuckled. "I did feed you frequently."

"Every day," she told him, then looking down while a blush spread up her neck to her cheeks. "I think, even then, you filled the role of father in my life, and I was afraid she would screw it up, and that I would lose you."

Rory pretended not to notice the way Luke's eyes glistened ever so slightly and focused instead on the steps of the dance. He led her so effortlessly; Luke was the first of three men, she realized, that she had every unreservedly trusted to lead her when she faltered. Luke, Richard, and then Brett. Lorelai had raised her by example to be strong and independent, to not need the help of any man. And yet, she mused, Lorelai's greatest moments of weakness had been in the presence of this man. Luke wasn't always able to fix the problem, although his desire to fix certainly wasn't why Lorelai trusted him.

Lorelai trusted Luke because he was always there. And so Rory had also learned, whether by example or just because it was Luke, that this man always had her back. He would always pick her up when she fell, he would always want the best for her, he would always listen to her, and he would always stay.

Luke squeezed her hand briefly, acknowledging her unspoken gratitude. "I'm always here," he reiterated.

"I know," she said, resting her head on his shoulder much like she had with Brett a few minutes ago. Two men, so different, both having promised to love her unconditionally for as long as she lived. This, she thought, is who a father should aspire to be. If Brett loved her half as much as Luke had over the years, and she knew he did, more even, then she knew she could accomplish anything she set out to do.

Looking over Luke's shoulder, Rory watched Lorelai accept her own father's invitation to dance, reminiscent of Lorelai's wedding to Luke not even three years ago. Emily was standing just off the dance floor, chatting animatedly to Brett, who had his arms full of his one-year-old brother-in-law. William was growing fast, the perfect combination of Luke and Lorelai, with her curly brown hair and his soft blue-grey eyes. He seemed to have grown exponentially every time she'd seen him in the last year, which was admittedly not as much as she'd like.

She and Brett had discussed moving back here to Stars Hollow, but both of their jobs were in New York. They were both happy where they were, and Rory thought focusing on their careers and relationship for a little while longer would do them good. Brett looked so natural with a child in his arms, and if she were honest, it freaked her out a little. Lorelai had done such an amazing job as a mother, but Rory had no idea what to do when it came to children. Until she met William, she wasn't even sure she liked them all that much.

Luke spoke, drawing her attention back to the present. "You're thinking too much," he told her. "You should be enjoying the moment, not over-analyzing it."

Giggling, Rory shook her head. "Thank you for the reminder." Now was not the time to worry about the future. Now was the time to do what Luke said – spend every second enjoying the happiest day of her life.

"What were you thinking about so hard? If you don't mind me asking," he added when she hesitated.

The song slowly came to an end and Luke led her off the dance floor towards Brett, who was now handing William off to Lorelai. "The future," she said vaguely. "Worries of tomorrow. I've renounced them. These moments are perfect, and I don't want to miss them." Rory leaned into Luke's arm, hinting that he was part of this perfection, and then verbalizing her thought. "Luke," she said tentatively, stopping him before they reached the rest of their family.

He turned and looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I'm glad it was you." Rory hurried to continue, seeing his confusion. "Dancing with me. This dance in particular. I wouldn't want anyone else here." No one had questioned her when she had announced Richard would walk her down the aisle and Luke would dance with her during the father-daughter dance. She had wondered if anyone even considered whether or not Chris would be here, beyond Emily's initial questioning. The last time she had seen him was when she flew down to Miami to ask him to be here for this. She had flown back and come straight to Luke, telling him he was her first choice for this, and that she asked Christopher out of obligation. Now, at her reassurance that this was exactly how she imagined this moment, he merely smiled at her.

Leaning forward, he grasped her head in his hand, careful not to muss up her carefully arranged curls, and kissed her forehead in an uncharacteristic display of affection, visible to anyone watching. "Me, too," he said simply, and it was all the reciprocation she needed.


	13. 8-7-2012

**October 7, 2012**

 _Piece by piece I fell far from the tree  
I will never leave her like you left me_

Two pink lines.

Those two, tiny, tickle-me-pink lines in this piece of plastic were leading to the first panic attack she had experienced in over five years.

Rory couldn't breathe. The tightness in her chest kept constricting in on her; she wondered if it would get so tight that her heart would pop out of her ribcage and fall to the floor in front of her. What was she supposed to do during a panic attack? It had been so long, she almost couldn't remember. Breathe, her brain prompted. In and out, slowly. She fought the waves of panic crashing around her and focused on breathing, swaying back and forth in time with her breath where she sat on the floor in Lorelai's bathroom. Rory tried to focus on the facts.

There was a party going on outside. The planning party that always happened before the real party began. Her twenty-eighth birthday bash would be in full swing by eight 'o'clock tonight, but for now, her mother was heading up the preparations in the front yard of the Crap Shack. Rory, of course, wasn't supposed to know anything about it, as Lorelai and Brett had insisted she relax and enjoy her day off of work with some well-deserved time alone, since her actual birthday was on a Monday and she would have to work then. They had sent her upstairs for a bubble bath, and it was then that Rory realized how late she was.

Late. A euphemism, of course. Her monthly cycle was so regular she could set a clock by it, and she was late. Two months late. In the haze of newlywed life, Rory Gilmore-Tyler had not noticed that the beginning of the month came and went without the need for chocolate and tissues. The panic had started then, and would have exploded at that moment had she not remembered that her mother and Luke were trying for a baby again – no, ew, don't think about that. Those facts do not need to be thought about. She moved on in her list of details; in knowing the barest details of her mother's sex life, she had known to look for extra pregnancy tests kept in the bathroom cabinet. She read the instructions on the box three times to make sure she understood, peed on a stick, and waited two minutes… and an extra three, because she found herself frozen against the wall.

The two lines were unmistakable. And so were the two lines and the plus sign and the smiley face and the green circle and the mini "pregnant" on the five tests after that; she would definitely be replacing those, hopefully before Lorelai noticed.

Rory Gilmore-Tyler was either pregnant or there was something very wrong with her hormonal system, and she had never been so terrified in her life. When she heard someone walking up the stairs calling her name, she scrambled off the floor and began frantically searching for somewhere to hide the evidence of her – what, condition? That sounded so old-fashioned. Bump. Bump would do for now, until she knew what to call it, what to think of it. She had to hide the evidence of her bump.

A knock came on the door. "Rory? It's Luke. Your mom sent me up with some magazines and wine."

Her eyes widened, sure she couldn't internally panic any more, even though she had distracted herself enough to push away the panic attack. She couldn't possibly drink wine! Alcohol was now bad, she told herself. Very, very bad. They would notice if she didn't drink it at the party. What was she supposed to do now?

"Rory?" Luke called again, his voice rising a little. "Are you okay?"

Birth control, why hadn't her birth control worked? she abruptly wondered. "Yes, yes, fine," she hurried to tell him, trying to ignore the onslaught of thoughts that still overwhelmed her.

"You wanna open the door?" he asked, after not hearing any movement towards the door.

"Um." Rory paused. Opening the door would reveal that she had not, in fact, been relaxing in the tub for the last hour. And Luke was smart enough to know something was off. Maybe she could say she'd already finished her bath and had decided to redress before going downstairs to change into her party dress.

"Rory? Are you sure you're okay?"

She threw open the door before completely thinking through her excuses. "Totally fine. Everything's great." Rory reached for the wine and magazine, unsure now of how she was going to throw it out, especially if he expected her to drink it in front of him.

One look at her face and his eyes narrowed. "I may not have your mother's uncanny bond with you," he said, "but I know when you of all people are not okay."

Rory took a deep breath, about to tell him it was nothing, when unbidden tears suddenly burst forth with a sob. Luke quickly removed the wine and magazine from her hands, setting it on the counter next to them. She sank to the floor again, and Luke followed her, drawing her into his arms. "Shh," he murmured. "It's okay, it's going to be okay. Tell me, and we'll make it okay."

Pulling back a little, Rory reached behind the trashcan for the bag she had stuffed all of the tests into. Tears still streaming out of her eyes, she thrust it at his chest, unable to explain. If she hadn't been so distraught, she might have laughed at the way his face paled when he peeked into the bag. "I so didn't want confirmation you were actually having sex," he grimaced, and she suspected it was to himself. Still, the statement elicited a watery giggle from her. He looked back up at her and smiled woefully. His hand went to her head and pulled her against him, pressing his lips to her forehead. "So tell me. Why all the tears?"

Rory shook her head against him. "I'm not ready," she told him. "I can't do this. This wasn't my plan."

"You'll never be ready, Rory," he responded, and she knew he spoke from his experiences with both April and Will. "But you can do this."

"No," she said. "I don't know how."

"So you'll learn, just like you always do. Rory, what's this really about?"

Taking another deep breath, Rory leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Luke's hand still rested on her shoulder, and he moved it down to hold her hands in his, waiting patiently for an answer. The truth came to Rory as easily as all of the facts had earlier, but it hurt. Oh, how it hurt. "I'll never be as good as Mom. I don't even like kids. Brett and I – it was only mentioned as a vague possibility, far into the future. I'll fail. This kid, I'll fail this kid." She let herself give voice to the reality of her bump, knowing she couldn't come back from this moment.

"Rory," Luke whispered. "Sweetheart, you will not fail this kid." His hand came up to clasp her upper arm.

She shook her head again in denial. "I will-"

"You won't. You are not your father, do you hear me?" His voice was hard, angry, and his grip on her arm grew tighter. It startled her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed, but those were the words she needed to hear. She would not be like her father. Luke scowled at her for a moment before his expression softened, his grip loosening. "Your mom did her best, but you know she still failed at times, Rory. She would be the first to admit that. Do you know what she did, when she failed you?" He stared hard at her, willing her to understand. "She let other people who love you step in and be strong. Your grandparents, this town, me. We stepped in when she failed, because we love you. Rory, this kid, it will be so lucky to have you as its mom and Brett as its dad. So lucky. And you will love him or her more than you thought was humanly possible." Luke's hand came up to cup her cheek. "And when you fail, as all parents do, we will be here to pick up the slack, to be strong for both you and this kid."

"Bump," she hiccupped, sharing her thought.

He scrunched his face in confusion. "What?"

"It's my bump. I didn't know what else to call it."

Luke chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear before helping her to stand up. "You're going to be okay, Rory."

"Maybe," she said. Luke picked up the bag full of positive tests and handed it to her. It suddenly hit her that she had to go tell Brett. And Lorelai. And everyone else that would eventually notice her bump. She felt the panic start to return.

"Rory," Luke said, pulling her back to the present. He waited until she met his eyes. "Congratulations," he told her.

She smiled for the first time since her eyes registered those two pink lines. "Thank you. Where's Brett?" she asked, her eyes filling with hope. Rory had a surprise to share with her husband.

"Downstairs, hanging out with your mom… working on something, I don't know," Luke got shifty eyed, trying not to spill the party secret.

"So, working on party plans?" she asked, smirking.

Luke smiled back at her. "I told them you were too smart to not know. Want me to go find Brett for you, send him up here?"

"Yeah, that'd be good." Nervousness suddenly hit her again as Luke picked up the wine and took a sip.

"That stuff is disgusting," he commented. "I'll go find Brett, and I'll also figure out how to get you some nonalcoholic drinks without raising suspicion."

Rory sat down on the edge of the tub. "Sounds like a plan," she told him. Luke always had a plan. "I think I'm gonna take that relaxing bubble bath now."


	14. 4-5-2013

I definitely used my own birthday for this… #noshame

Also, T-Swift keeps getting stuck in my head. Because I'm (almost) feeling twenty-two.

* * *

 **April 5, 2013**

 _And she will never have to wonder her worth_

 _Because unlike you I'm going to put her first_

The excruciating pain and hatred of all things related to sex faded away when Brett placed their child into her arms. "A little girl," he said softly. "This is our baby girl. This is our Lila." Rory smiled with tears in her eyes at the first physical meeting of the little girl they had been talking to for months now. Unable to look anywhere else, she simply stared at the small bundle of red skin that slowly stopped wailing upon contact with her mother's chest. She had vaguely heard the doctor announce that she was perfectly healthy, but Rory couldn't focus on anything else but the gentle weight in her arms.

In a daze, Rory found herself hushing the newborn, rocking Lila as best as she could while leaned back on the hospital bed. The nurses worked busily around them as they cleaned up the space. Lorelai was standing against the back wall, nearly in tears, waiting for them to call her forward. Rory reached out her hand to welcome her mom to her side; she came quickly, sitting on the side of the bed opposite from Brett. "Oh, Rory," she breathed. "She's beautiful."

"She's perfect," Rory said. Brett's hand came up to linger on the infant's head as he repeated her sentiment.

Lorelai shook her head, as Rory expected. "You were perfect," she told her daughter. "But this angel is the closest second I'll ever see." Lorelai bent over her and kissed their foreheads, Rory and then the newest member of their family.

Rory wasn't sure how long the three of them sat there gazing at this bundle of perfection before a nurse interrupted them. "Excuse me, but does she have a name?" The nurse held up a pen with the certificate of birth on the table in front of her.

Brett's eyes met Rory's, and they nodded in silent agreement over the name they had already discussed. "Lorelai Margaret Tyler," Brett announced. "Mom can spell that for you, if you'd like." The eldest Lorelai in the room flushed with pride, both at the continuation of their tradition and Brett's referring to her as Mom, and hurried over to the nurse to ensure Lila's full name was written out correctly. As soon as the nurse had left, Lorelai announced she was going to go find the rest of their family.

Brett smoothed the hair out of Rory's face, looking at his wife instead of his daughter for the first time since the nurse had placed Lila in his arms. Rory looked up at him, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "Thank you," he whispered, overwhelmed by the new life they'd created. "I know this isn't what you wanted-"

"Shh." She pressed a finger to his lips. "This was not what I had planned. But this is what I want now. You, and me, and Lila, and I know we haven't even been married for a year, and trust me when I say my doctor and I are going to have a very intense discussion about birth control, but our family is what I want now. I love you, and I love her, and neither of you will ever have cause to question that." Rory's eyes shone up into his before she closed them, pressing a kiss to his lips.

A cough from the doorway interrupted the fragile moment. They looked over to see Luke staring at the floor bashfully, unwilling to intrude. Brett pressed one more kiss to Rory's lips and lovingly stroked Lila's head before heading towards the door, clapping Luke on the back before walking out, presumably to find his own parents. Rory held out her hand to Luke, just as she had to Lorelai, beckoning him forward. "Come meet your granddaughter," she said quietly.

Luke's eyes held the same wonder she had seen when William was first born, as if he couldn't fathom any moment as breath-taking as a newborn baby. Rory patted the side of the bed next to her, and he took her hand as he reached her and sat. "She's beautiful," he told her. "Perfect."

"Do you want to hold her?" Rory asked him. He nodded slowly, reaching out to take the baby from her arms.

"What's her name?" he asked. "You two were pretty quiet with that in the last few months."

Rory was quiet for a moment, watching Luke hold her daughter. The scrunchy red skin of the infant contrasted just so with the telling wrinkles in Luke's face. His lined forehead and the crow's feet around his eyes exposed the extreme extent to which he felt emotion, and Rory hoped that when Lila was in her mid-forties she had lived life to the full, just like her assumed grandfather. "Lorelai Margaret Tyler. We've been calling her Lila." Luke's head jerked up, and he stared at her, a question in his eyes. "Yes," Rory whispered. "Margaret, after her great-grandmother, the woman who raised you."

The moment couldn't be any more perfect. Luke leaned forward with tears in his eyes and kissed Rory's forehead before raising Lila up close to him and kissing her forehead as well. "Lila Maggie," he said softly. "We love you so much."


	15. 7-27-2016

**July 27, 2016**

 _And you know, he'll never walk away,  
He'll never break her heart  
He'll take care of things, he'll love her_

"Luke's," the namesake himself barked into the phone. The sounds of the diner filtered through the phone line, causing Luke to shout above the noise of people talking, plates clinking, and orders being called. Rory took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

"Hey, it's me," she said softly into the phone line, trying not to wake her sleeping three-year-old. There was some shuffling and a few curses before she heard a door close. Despite the drop in volume, Luke still spoke loudly, as if his ears hadn't readjusted to the quiet.

"Hello? Who's there?"

"Luke, it's Rory." She reached out and brushed the bangs away from Lila's forehead, pressing the back of her hand against the girl's red sweaty cheeks.

"Rory, hi, what's up? You sound tired."

"Lila has the chicken pox. Luke, I need you to walk me through making your mashed potatoes." Rory stood up slowly, arranging pillows around Lila's body to ensure she wouldn't roll off the edge of the bed.

"My mashed potatoes? Have you tried getting the boxed kind? It'd be a lot easier," he told her.

"I've tried everything," she said, walking into the kitchen. "I have tried every single kind of boxed mashed potatoes in Wal-Mart and I have bought mashed potatoes from every restaurant willing to deliver that sells them within half an hour's drive and I even looked up how to make them yourself and I tried that but she keeps spitting them out and pushing them away, insisting she wants Papa's mash toes. I don't know what to do. I can't get her to eat anything!" Her voice hit the level of desperation that only came when she hadn't slept or showered in three days, and Rory took a deep breath to bring her voice back down. "Please, Luke, just tell me how to make your mashed potatoes."

He took a deep breath himself, taking in everything she had just said. "Of course, a Gilmore wants magic mashed potatoes," he muttered. "What time is it?"

"Just after three. Why?"

"Sit tight. I'll be there as soon as I can." Luke hung up the phone before she could protest. Sitting down at the kitchen bar, she pulled her ponytail higher before laying her head down on the counter. Why did Brett have to be gone this week? Rory had a newfound appreciation for her mother going it alone after spending the last three days on her own with a very sick and very grumpy toddler. Normally an angel, Lila had been the devil incarnate as Rory tried everything to relieve the itchiness, fevers, and headaches. Brett had left for his five-day work trip to Chicago, and three hours later Rory was sitting in the doctor's office with a polka-dotted Lila. She had come home from daycare with a fever, and Rory felt like she'd turned around for one moment before turning back and discovering she had a spotted hyena for a daughter.

Lila's whimpering interrupted her moment of peace. Rory held still, her body waiting to spring into movement while hoping that her baby girl would settle back down and fall asleep again. She had no such luck, wearily pushing herself up off the bar stool as Lila's moans erupted into full-blown screaming. Settling back down beside her daughter, Rory picked up Lila and held her tight, keeping her from scratching at the scabs while rocking her back and forth, trying to shush her. Minutes turned into hours as Lila went back and forth between fitful sleeping and anguished crying. Rory nearly cried herself when she finally heard keys jiggling in the door of the apartment.

"Rory?" Luke called.

"In here," she responded softly. "She's sleeping right now." Rory couldn't imagine what they must look like to Luke, who had stopped in the doorway of Lila's bedroom. Rory's hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail where it had been for three days. She was wearing the same old Bangles t-shirt she'd thrown on this morning after attempting homemade mashed potatoes, and the mess the blender had made was still smashed into her gym shorts where it had caked on. Her grimy fingernails had chipped paint peeling off, and Rory was certain her face was greasy with old unwashed make-up. Lila surely didn't look much better with all of her red bumps and sweat, although her hair was pulled back into a braid and Rory had put a clean nightgown on her after giving her a bath last night.

When Rory finally stopped surveying the mess they were and looked up at Luke, she found a different expression than she expected. Luke's eyes were wide with the look Lorelai often called "daddy-struck", and Rory couldn't imagine why their yucky state provoked that feeling. "Stop staring," she told him. "We're a mess."

Luke shook his head, smiling. "Your mom told me to tell you welcome to motherhood." Rory rolled her eyes as Luke walked back down the hall to the kitchen. She moved to get up and follow him but stopped when Lila started moaning again. Lila woke up completely this time, not foggy from the fever for a few moments. "Mommy," she groaned.

"Yes, baby?" Rory smoothed her wispy bangs back again. Lila blinked up at her.

"Tummy hurt," she answered, big blue eyes blinking up at her.

"Are you hungry? Do you need to eat?" Rory asked. Lila's head nodded in response, nuzzling into Rory's arms. "What do you want to eat, sweets?"

"Papa's mash toes, Mommy," Lila slurred. "Want toes."

Luke stepped into the toddler's bedroom at that moment, sitting down on the bed next to Rory with a bowl of reheated mashed potatoes in his hand and a small plastic spoon in the other. "I've got this. Go take of yourself, Rory."

Guilt seeped into the edges of her mind at the relief she felt, so Rory hesitated. "I can feed her," she offered.

Luke looked pointedly at her while pulling Lila up against his chest. "I fed you mashed potatoes when you had the chicken pox. I can handle her, too." Her baby girl was trying to smile, but the grimace was feeble at best. Rory let her go, trusting Luke to take over for a few moments, realizing she would have kicked Brett's ass if he had been here and hadn't been splitting time with her on Lila's care. It was okay to let someone else help. She wasn't quite sure she wouldn't kick his ass even once he got home, for having to be out of town at the worst possible time.

Rory thought about just collapsing on her bed and sleeping, but she was in desperate need of a shower. The hot water felt good against her skin, and she spent twenty minutes longer than necessary just standing under the spray, letting the heat wash away the sickness and grunge of the last few days. Her clean clothes smelt like heaven, and she contemplated lying down on her bed and sleeping. The shower left her feeling reenergized, however, so Rory turned on her laptop as she wandered back into the kitchen to find a fresh pot of Luke's coffee.

Walking past Lila's room, she smiled as she listened to Luke sing his granddaughter to sleep in that soft baritone he rarely let anyone hear. Rory let contentment carry her to the couch in the living room and sat down to check in with work. She leaned back against the arm rest and closed her eyes as she waited for her email to come up. As she drifted off to sleep, Rory was vaguely aware of a blanket draped over her. _Luke_ , she thought. _Always taking care of us_.


	16. 8-20-2018

**August 20, 2018**

 _And piece by piece, he'll restore my faith  
That a man can be kind and a father should be great_

The bells on the diner door jingled as they announced her entrance. Rory slipped through the late breakfast crowd to an open bar stool and sat at the counter. Only a few minutes passed before Luke appeared with a pot of coffee. He slid a mug in front of her and poured. "Breakfast?" he asked.

"Please. Anything will do," she answered, pulling the full mug close to her and breathing it in.

Luke leaned on the counter, resting his weight on his forearms. "So oatmeal with grapefruit, got it. Want a glass of orange juice with that?"

Glaring at him, Rory lifted her finger and poked his nose before he could move. "Do not irritate this mama today. I want a big comfort food breakfast. All the works, mister."

Luke chuckled and swatted her finger away from his face. "Comin' right up."

Turning around on her stool, Rory watched Luke make his rounds through the diner, stopping to chat with most customers. Their Luke had come a long way from being the town grump, she thought, and she liked to assume it was their presence in his life that had released his desire for companionship. He was such a natural with people when he wasn't on edge about something, just like Lorelai. Unfortunately, that gene had skipped Rory's generation, as she and Jess, practically Luke's son since he took him in during their high school years, were most definitely not people people. Rory was grateful that that ease with people had been passed through to Lila, as it made this day in particular so much easier for her little girl.

Rory's first day of kindergarten in Stars Hollow looked much different than Lila's. Rory had tricked Lorelai into being at school an hour early after learning her lesson in the years previous with day cares and summer programs. All of the unfamiliar people had made her nervous, and the only reason she made herself stick it out was because she was so excited about having access to the school's library.

Lila, on the other hand, had to be dragged out of bed this morning. Like her grandmother, she sometimes needed seventeen different alarm clocks to ensure she woke up when necessary. Rory had promised her a small sip of coffee if she would please just get dressed herself, and Lila had held her to that, even though Brett protested her coffee intake before leaving for work, promising he would be there to pick her up as soon as the bell rang that afternoon. Once they were in sight of the school, Lila's natural instinct for meeting people had kicked in, and Rory had trouble getting her into her actual classroom, especially after they had met up with Lorelai and Will. Rory had introduced herself to the teacher and turned around to find Lila already engaged in conversation and play with two other little girls over by the reading station. That, of course, was one thing her daughter had inherited from her. Rory praised whatever deity or fate out there that Lila loved to read just as much as her mother did. Else she might wonder if Lila was even hers, which of course made no sense at all, seeing as how she very clearly remembered the part where she gave birth to this child five years ago.

Five years, she marveled. Their baby girl was now five years old, currently experiencing her first day of kindergarten, in Stars Hollow no less. Rory couldn't believe she was home again, and living down the street from her mother and Luke, working from home as a freelance journalist who traveled on lease. Against all odds she had married a man in the insurance business, and Richard had left his entire business to Brett upon his passing nearly three years ago. When Rory's editor suggested they lease her out and give her an opportunity to travel and simultaneously work from home and raise Lila, it was as if the stars had aligned. Although she and Brett had considered every preparatory elementary school in the Hartford area, they had chosen to raise Lila in Stars Hollow, where they could be close to friends and family alike. Lorelai was ecstatic, and although Emily wasn't quite thrilled, she enjoyed having her girls closer than they were when they lived in New York. Of course, all Lila could talk about when they first told her they were moving was how excited she was about living near Papa and Mimi.

Her little girl's Papa interrupted her reflections with a refill on her coffee and a big plate of breakfast. "Looks yummy," Rory said, picking up her fork and digging in.

"Better be. Only been serving breakfast for thirty years," Luke responded, leaning against the counter once more. The breakfast rush around them had settled down, most people finishing up their meals or leaving to begin their work day.

"That's a long time to serve breakfast."

He slapped his worn blue cap on the table and ran his hands through his greying hair. "Damn right. I feel old."

Rory smiled. "You are old, Grandpa."

Luke rolled his eyes at her and snugged the baseball hat back onto his head. "How's the transition back to this nut house been?" he asked, jerking his chin out the window towards their town.

"Good, really good. Lila likes being here, and I don't think Brett minds the transit to work much. It's definitely closer than New York." Rory spoke in between bites of bacon and eggs, taking smaller bites so she could answer him quicker. "It was the right decision, coming back here. I forgot how much I like small town life."

"No more big city adventures?"

"Being able to travel sporadically scratches that itch. I'm glad this is home base."

"It is home at that." Luke nodded his head, stepping away to check customers out at the cash register. He came back with a new question. "So today was the first day of school. How's it look?"

"The school?" she asked. At his nod, she continued. "It's smaller than I remembered." In her memory, the hallways were so wide and tall, and every teacher was a giant, no matter what grade she was in. Now the halls felt cramped, and she was fairly certain Lila's teacher was both shorter and younger than herself.

"You're bigger than it remembers, I'm sure," Luke mused, crossing his arms in front of him and leaning against the back counter. "So. Lila's first day of kindergarten. How're you adjusting?"

Rory shook her head in awe. "My baby's so big," she said. "I don't know what happened. It's like…" She trailed off, unsure how to express herself, despite her journalistic training.

"You blinked and you missed it?" Luke supplied.

"Yeah, that's it exactly. I mean, I remember the day she was born, you know? So tiny and perfect. And now she's five years old and wanting to know about make-up and I was so not that girl. I'm still not that girl. I don't know what to do with her half the time and now she's in kindergarten and so many other people are going to influence her and get to share the world with her and see firsts that I won't get to." Luke stopped her outburst with a hand on her arm, moving her waving forkful of hash browns back down to her plate.

"Rory. You will always be there for her, more than anyone else. No one can replace your role as her mother. And you're with family now, Rory, which means we are here to pick up the slack and share the burden, remember? You know your mom will document every moment with photographs on Facebook when you have to be away for work. And at school, Will is there to look out for her. His head's on straighter than his mother's, so you know it's going to be okay." Luke stilled her anxious thoughts with his calm response. He was right, and she knew that. They were surrounded by family. And more importantly, her baby girl would always be her baby girl, and she got to see firsthand the marvel that was Lila Maggie Tyler.

Having finished her breakfast, Rory pushed the plate away and took up the mug of coffee again. "Lila is growing up so fast, Luke."

Luke came around the counter to sit on the stool next to her. "I remember when you came running in here that first time, full of energy, just like your mom. I blinked, and now we're here." He kept his eyes on his clasped hands sitting on the counter in front of him. "Lila has that same Gilmore energy, so full of life."

"She's the best part of all of us," Rory reflected.

Luke smiled in unspoken agreement. He placed his hand over Rory's where it played with the edge of a fraying menu. She looked over at him, meeting his focused eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Rory," he said.

Hit with a wave of gratitude for the man Luke had been to her, it was all Rory could do to smile back. He had picked her up, piece by piece, over and over again, and she knew he would continue to do so without fail. This man, she thought, had taught her that a man could be kind, and a father should be great, and Rory vowed then to always remind him of her love.

"Thank you, Luke."

* * *

A/N: That's a wrap, folks. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Again, I want to thank **junienmomo** for all of her feedback and support. It was a privilege to be at the receiving end of your advice.


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